MECHANIC. 


BT 

FRANCES  HARRIET  WHIFFLE. 


'  Where  Uriih  Nature  the  protecting  bud 

••iita»lml  ;    ibewal  biro  how  to  ni*e 
Hia  f  -Mr  force  67  the  mrctanic  i  • 
To  ill  »  the  mineral  from  the  ranlied  nrth  j 

On  what  the  torrrnt  *nd  the  (rathered  bU«(  : 
Care  th"  till,  anci'ni  fbmt  tu  nil  itxe  ; 

10  chip  the  wood,  i  nU  hew  the  rtoM  :  — 


ui,  Kill 
To  pomp,  to  pleo» 

.      ....     .:!:.  I.     IU3      t' 


, 
ng  bolder,  1.-.1  Urn  on, 


OLLSSL     ••'•' 

•  ••     .-'• 


PROVIDENCE: 

B  LIB  BED    r.  ^    r  r  T  &.   K  I  N 

BOSTO^  BROW  5.         K«W 

TORE:    D.    A  p  i-  i.  K  r  o  .v    &    co. 
1 8  4  •_' . 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1841,  by 

BURNETT     &     KING, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  of  Rhode  Island. 


PRESS  OF 

BENJAMIN       F.       MOORE, 
19  Market-street,  Provulencc,  R.  I. 


TO     THE 


OF    RHODE    ISLAND, 

II  £       FOLLOWING       STORY      IS      R  E  S  P  F.  (    i    K  L  I    I    i 
K  I  B  E  D  ,     B  T     T  II  F.  I  K     SINCERE      F  R  I  I 

THE      AUTHOK. 


2068034 


PREFACE. 

It  may  be  objected  that  the  incidents,  char- 
acters, and  modes  of  life,  embodied  in  the 
accompanying  Narrative,  range  too  far  above 
the  common  lot,  to  come  within  the  sphere  of 
POPULAR  TALES  ;  that  they  are,  in  short,  de- 
ficient, in  not  giving  the  just  medium  picture  of 
common  life  ;  that  they  ought  to  be  brought 
down  more  upon  a  level  with  the  habits  and 
tastes  of  the  common  people.  To  this  I  reply: 
We  have,  already,  done  enough  of  bringing 
down  :  let  us  no\v  begin  to  LIFT  UP  —  to  KLE- 
VATE  our  fellow  men  !  In  fine,  if  those  who  are 
called  levellers,  would  stop  leveling  down  and 
begin  to  LEVEL  UP  !  —  if,  instead  of  attempting 
to  bring  down  the  higher  orders  of  society,  they 
would  aim  at  elevating  the  low,  if  they  would 
preach  at  the  corners  of  the  streets,  and  by 
the  fire-side  —  through  all  our  high-ways,  and 
through  all  our  bye-ways,  the  great  doctrine  of 
tin-  dignity  —  the  divinity  of  human  nature  —  a 
dignity,  u  divinity,  which  the  contact  of  no  out- 
ward circumstance  could,  possibly,  either  de- 


X  PREFACE. 

grade,  or  exalt,  a  great  change  would  begin  to 
be  wrought,  —  and  this,  undoubtedly,  would 
lead  to  a  clearer  perception  of  the  spirit,  and  a 
carrying  out  of  the  principle,  which  was  in  the 
mind  of  Jesus.  Is  the  diamond  less  a  diamond 
because  accident  has  cast  it  among  flint,  or 
pebble  stones  ?  is  it  more  a  diamond,  if  set  in 
the  finest  gold?  Is  not  the  gem  one?  —  are 
not  its  beauty,  and  its  value  one,  wherever,  or 
however,  it  may  be  set  ?  When  these  doctrines 
are  generally  preached,  and  embodied  in  prac- 
tice, every  man  will  begin  to  feel  himself,  and 
TO  BE  —  A  MAN  ;  and  feeling,  and  being  this, 
however  high,  or  however  low  he  may  be  in  a 
worldly  point  of  view,  he  will  regard  his  fellow 
men  as  equals,  and  brethren,  all  walking  in  dif- 
ferent paths,  it  may  be  —  all  pursuing  different 
avocations  ;  yet  each  bearing  on  his  brow  the 
visible  signet  of  Jehovah,  which  confirms  THE 

NOBILITY  OF  A  GODLIKE  NATURE each  inVCSt- 

ed  with  a  mission  to  his  race,  for  the  faithful 
discharge  of  which  he  is  accountable  to  all 
future  generations.  When  this  spirit  comes 
to  be  diffused,  the  rich  man  will  cease  to  be 
arrogant,  and  the  poor  man  will  forget  to  be 
servile  ;  for  will  not  each  feel  himself  equally  a 
MAN?  —  and  where  upon  the  face  of  the  wide 
earth  could  be  found  a  higher  dignity  ? 

F.  H.  W. 


THE    MECHANIC. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  For  oh  the  morning  of  the  soul 

Has  heavenly  brightness  in  it  ; 
And  as  the  mind's  first  mists  unrol, 

Gives  years  in  every  minute  — 
Years  of  ideal  joy  !  —  life's  path, 

First  trod,  such  dewy  freshness  hath, 
'T  is  rapture  to  begin  it." 

BARTO.V. 

THE  first  of  the  holydays  which  followed  the 
closing  of  the  summer  term,  at  the  academy  of 
one  of  our  beautiful  .\C\v  England  villages, 
was  just  closing  in  upon  as  happy  a  group  of 
children,  as  ever  charmed  echo  with  the  music 
of  merry  shout,  or  ringing  laugh.  The  whole 
air  seemed  one  continuous  vibration  of  joyous 
melody,  as  they  loitered  along  the  way  side, 
on  their  return  from  a  juvenile  party.  There 
were  three  lini:erer-.  aside  from  the  merry 
group  ;  and  of  these,  again,  two  loitered  still 
farther  behind  ;  a  fine,  dark-eyed  boy  of  six- 
teen, with  a  little  -looking  romp  of  a 
girl,  who  might  have  been  two  or  three  years 
younger. 


14  THE    MECHANIC. 

"  Do  you  go  home  to-morrow,  Bell  ?  "  asked 
the  boy. 

"  O,  yes  ! "  she  replied,  shaking  back  the 
long  chesnut  curls  from  her  fair  shoulders, 
and  looking  up  in  his  face,  with  an  expres- 
sion vibrating  between  the  earnest  simplicity 
of  childhood,  and  the  first  dawn  of  maiden 
bashfulness.  "  O,  yes  !  I  shall  go  home  to- 
morrow, and  see  my  own  dear  father  and 
mother  —  see  them  every  day  !  only  think  ! 
and  Aunty!  and  darling  little  Bobby  —  that 
is  my  bird,  you  know  —  and  beautiful  little 
Marion,  white  as  snow  !  that's  my  pet  lamb  — 
and  good  old  Bessy!  that's  cur  horse — and 
Cherry  !  that  was  brother  Charley's  bird  — 
and  Pruny  !  that's  puss  —  and  Leon!  that's 
cur  good  old  dog !  O,  don't  you  feel  very 
glad  for  me,  Victor?  It  seems  as  if  I  should 
fly ! "  and  clapping  her  hands  quickly,  the 
merry  little  creature  began  to  dance,  like  a 
sprite  ;  while  the  starting  tears  shewed 
she  was  not  deficient  in  sensibility. 

•'•'Yes,  I  am  very  glad  for  you,  Bell  —  but 
—  "  He  paused  abruptly. 

"But,  what,  Victor?" 

"  Can  it  be  pleasant  to  think  of  being  for- 
gotten, Bell  ?  " 

"  Now  who  thought  of  lorgetting  yen,  Vic- 


THE   MECHANIC.  15 

tor?"  replied  the  girl,  with  childlike  innocence 
construing  his  inuendo.  "  I  am  sure  1  never 
did.  1  never  will  —  I  never  could  —  forget 
such  a  good,  kind,  dear  — "  She  hesitated, 
as  if  with  hall-awakened  consciousness  at  his 
eager  look  ;  and  then  added,  but  with  a  slightly 
tremulous  tone,  and  manner;  "I  am  sui 
have  been  like  a  cousin — like  —  a  brother! 
And  I  think  it  would  be  very — very  WICKED 
—  to  forget  you."  She  paused;  and  then 
added,  "I  had  a  brother  once — poor  little 
Chai'  Te  il  into  her  eyes;  but 

shaking  them  off,  lightly  as  dew  is  shaken  from 
the  r<  Ai-d,  '•  but  what  made  you  think 

aboni  now,  Victor,  when  we 

all  so  happ\  :  " 

"  Because,"  he.  ivplied,  \\<  "  I  hardly 

know  —  unless  —  "    he    paused,    and    looking 

(ly   in   h  Ided.   "  in;!' 

don't  know — ." 

"  O  look  ,  Victor  !   see   that   beautiful 

blue  flower!  Get  i(  \'»r  me  :  will  you?"  It 
is  the  reul  Fringed  Gentian!  I  believe!" 
But  she  d'ul  not  see  until  he  hud  .igerly 

from  her  side,   that   there  was   diftieulty,  if  not 
H  him  and  the  i-ower. 

"  O,  stop,  Victor  !  "  she  cried.  "     "  Do  not 
go!  and   1   will   remember  you,  and  lovo  you, 


16  THE    MECHANIC. 

just  as  well  without  it  !  Yes,  I  will  !  and 
longer !  and  better  ! "  she  added,  in  the  most 
beseeching  tones. 

He  had  just  reached  the  middle  of  a  light 
fence  of  old  trees,  loosely  piled  together,  which 
bridged  a  deep  and  rapid  stream  ;  when  turning 
at  her  anxious  cries,  he  smiled,  kissed  his  hand 
gallantly,  giving  at  the  same  instant  a  forward 
spring,  just  in  season  to  escape  a  plunge  in  the 
river ;  and  when  he  reached  the  shore,  and  his 
loud,  clear,  and  triumphant  shout  announced 
his  safety,  the  fragments  of  the  fence  were  seen 
floating  down  the  swollen  current.  He  soon 
ascended  the  opposite  bank,  plucked  the  fair 
cluster  ;  and,  waving  it  with  an  air  of  triumph, 
he  said,  "  Nothing  venture,  nothing  have  ;  Miss 
Bella  Thompson ! " 

"  But  how  will  you  get  back  again  ? "  she 
cried,  clasping  her  pretty  little  hands,  with  a 
gesture  and  expression  of  real  distress,  and  a 
touch  of  genuine  feeling,  which  many  older  and 
more  sentimental  ladies  would  give  worlds  to 
command,  "  O,  Victor  !  how  wrong  —  how 
very  wrong  I  was  to  ask  you  !  " 

"  And  what  if  I  should  not  got  back  ?  "  re- 
turned the  boy,  with  secret  gratification  at  her 
distress,  "  Who  will  care  if  I  do  not  ?  " 


THE    MECHANIC.  17 

"  O,  your  mother  and  your  cousin  !  They 
\vill  hate  me  !  " 

"  O,  that  is  all  ;  is  it  ? "  he  returned,  with 
more  of  chagrin,  than  gallantry. 

"O,  no  ;  that  is  not  all,  Victor.  I  shall 
hate  myself!  I  shall  be  forever  miserable  !  " 

Again  waving  his  trophy,  and  kissing  his 
hand,  the  boy  disappeared  among  the  shrub- 
bery ;  and  running  up  the  stream  a  little  way, 
soon  found  a  crossing  place.  He  was  just  in 
the  act  of  presenting  the  flowers,  when  Thomas 
Stanton,  Bella's  cousin,  entered,  quite  inoppor- 
tunely. 

"  One  kiss  on  her  fair  hand  !  "  said  Tom, 
"  claim  thy  boon,  man,  as  thou  art  worthy  to  win 
the  grace  of  fair  lady  !  Nay,  Bell  !  no  pouting  ! 
or,  by  our  cousinship  I'll  take  twenty  !  Why 
a  kiss  of  the  hand  is  the  smallest  of  all  boons 
a  lady  ever  granted  to  the  faithful  knight  who 
periled  life  and  limb  in  her  fair  service !  Victor, 
have  I  to  teach  thee  ?  "  and,  seizing  the  bunch 
of  flowers,  he  knelt  gracefully  on  one  knee, 
with  tilt;  hand  containing  them  pressed  against 
his  heart,  while,  with  the  other,  he  was  about 
to  grasp  the  taper  fingers  of  his  pouting  cousin  ; 
when,  much  to  his  surprise,  the  hitherto  quies- 
cent hand  seemed  gifted  with  sudden  energy  ; 
for  it  administered  such  a  spirited  box  on  the 
2* 


18  THE    MECHANIC. 

ear,  as  quite  threw  him  out  of  his  heroics. 
This,  happening  just  at  the  moment  the  other 
children  came  up,  it  was  hailed  by  acclama- 
tion ;  for  Tom  was,  although  a  great  favorite, 
the  torment  of  the  whole  school. 

"  We  will  settle  for  this  one  of  these  days  !  " 
lie  said  in  a  somewhat  subdued  tone  ;  but 
quickly  recovering  his  vivacity,  he  added  ; 
"  and  even  now  I  will  repay  good  for  evil  ;  " 
and  he  seized  and  kissed  in  spite  of  her,  the 
hand  that  smote  him. 

At  the  door  of  Mrs.  Hyde,  the  mother  of 
Victor,  the  happy  group,  after  lingering  a  while 
became  thoughtful  ;  for  the  moment  of  parting 
had  now  come  ;  and  they  bade  each  other 
farewell,  with  the  bright,  but  evanescent  tears 
of  childhood,  or  early  youth,  which  have  less 
of  sorrow  in  them,  than  of  hope, 


CHAPTER   II. 

"  For  a'  that,  and  a'  that, 

Our  toil's  obscure  and  a'  that, 
The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp, 

THE  MA.N'S  THE  COLU  for  a'  that.  " 

BITR.NS. 

NOT  many  days  after  the  scene  alluded  to 
in  the  last  chapter,  two  boys  met  on  the  village 
green.  "  How  are  ye,  Vic  ?  "  said  the  older 
and  taller  of  the  two. 

"  So,  so,  Tom ! "  replied  the  other,  lifting 
his  cap,  and  loosening  the  hair,  which  was  now 
matted  into  thick  curls  by  the  perspiration  ;  " 
but  I  have  had  a  deuc-ed  hard  time  of  it ;  and, 
to  say  the  truth,  Tom,  I  have  wanted  your 
help  not  a  little." 

"  How  is  it,  Vic,  the  old  matter  of  the  pro- 
fession come  up  again  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and,  thank  fortune,  it  is  settled,  at 
last. " 

'•  You  have  given  up  the  point,  then,  I 
take  it  ? " 

"  Not  at  all.  I  have  fought  manfully ;  but 
I  have  won  them  all  over  now ;  or  established 


20  THE    MECHANIC. 

a  truce  with  them  at  least.  My  grandmother 
was  there,  with  all  the  old  aristocratical  notions, 
which  she  has  kept  bottled  up  for  pressing 
emergencies  ever  since  the  Revolution.  There 
too  was  the  minister,  talking  about  my  father's 
dignity,  and  my  mother's  feelings.  My  cousin 
Kate,  too,  stood  on  the  ground,  with  a  host  of 
notions,  about  esteem,  and  fashion,  and  gen- 
tility ;  which  I  did'rt  understand;  and,  for  that 
matter,  I  don't  believe  she  did.  Kate  is  a 
belle ;  and,  of  course,  her  opinion  must  be 
sound.  Last  and  strongest  of  all  against  me, 
was  my  dear  mother,  with  her  too  great  fond- 
ness—  her  loo  high  opinion  of  me. " 

"  And  so,  Vic,  you  are  resolved  upon  taking 
a  subordinate  station  in  life, "  said  a  third,  who 
joined  the  two  boys  as,  arm  in  arm,  they  were 
proceeding  across  the  common  together.  '•  How 
do  you  think  some  of  your  noble  born  relations 
will  feel,  when  riding  through  the  streets  of 
some  great  city,  they  read  the  spruce  sign, 
'  Victor  Hyde,  House  Carpenter  ? '  And  how 
will  a  certain  fair  school-mate  relish  that,  eh,  Vic  ? 
Now  don't  you  think  such  a  high-sounding  name 
as  Victor  Hyde,  ought  to  be  associated  with 
Attorney  at  Law,  or  Doctor,  or  Reverend,  at 
the  least. " 

"  Reverend,  at  the  least !  you  ought  to  be 


THE    MECHANIC.  21 

ashamed  of  that,  to  put  the  sacred  profession 
last. " 

"  But  does  not  the  Great  Book  say  the  first 
shall  be  last  ?  However,  that's  not  answering 
my  question. " 

"  For  the  first,  then,  I  trust  that  no  crime, 
no  wrong,  no  meanness,  will  ever  be  associated 
with  the  name  of  Victor  Hyde,  let  it  stand 
how,  or  where  it  may  ;  and  the  esteem  which 
its  own  real  worth  cannot  command,  I  neither 
wish  for,  nor  expect.  " 

••  Why  to  be  sure  you  have  a  world  of  great 
words,  just  at  your  tongue's  end,  and  can  beat 
uie  out  and  out,  talking  ;  but  I  know  what's 
what,  after  all.  I  say,  then,  Vic,  you  are  mad 
to  think  of  throwing  away  such  a  good  chance 
as  you  have  of  going  to  college;  or  even  of 
going  into  a  store,  where  you  mi^ht  have  the 
finest  chaps  in  Washington  street  for  company, 
AS  /  DO  ;  "  and  the  incipient  fop  flourished  a 
rattan,  nearly  as  possible  as  he  had  seen  others 
of  a  like  stamp  do. 

"  I  know,  Mr.  George  Henry  Wilton,"  re- 
turned our  hero,  somewhat  ironically,  "  that 
you  have  been  educated  in  one  of  the  most 
genteel  shoe-stores  in  all  Boston  ;  and  I  ought, 
perhaps,  to  bow,  at  once,  to  such  high  author- 


22  THE    MECHANIC. 

ity ;  but  I'm  an  odd  fellow,  and  must  have  my 
own  way. " 

"  Tell  me  if  you  are  really  in  your  senses  ? " 
continued  Wilton,  disregarding,  or  probably  not 
understanding  the  irony.  "  Perhaps  you  do 
not  know  that  mechanics  are  not  respected  at 
all  in  genteel  city  circles.  You  have  not  had 
the  happiness  —  the  advantage  —  of  living  two 
years  in  Boston,  you  know  !  Besides,  I  am 
almost  three  years  older  than  you  —  and  — 
just  going  into  business  for  myself ;  and,  of 
course,  I  am  better  able  to  judge ; "  and  he 
pulled  up  his|  fabe  collar,  and  adjusted  his 
highly  perfumed  locks,  with  an  air  which  is 
easily'  acquired  by  those  who  are  never  dis- 
quieted, by  the  action  of  any  redundancy 
brain. 

"  No,  not  of  course ;  "  was  the  cool  reply. 
"I  feel  myself  the -best  qualified  to  judge  for 
myself;  and,  especially,  in  a  matter  that  touches 
my  private  taste,  and  my  peculiar  situation. " 

"  You  are  right ! "  said  Tom,  whose  better 
sense  had  been  shocked  by  the  foppery  and 
superficial  airs  of  the  counter  graduate.  "  And 
'here's  my  hand,  with  my  word  of  honor,  Vic. 
that  the  lawyer  shall  never  look  down  upon  the 
carpenter;  —  which,  indeed,  would  be  a  pretty 


THE    MECHANIC.  23 

hard  matter,  if  YOU  represent  the  profession  ; " 
he  added,  with  an  admiring  glance  at  the  noble 
air,  and  intelligent  face  of  the  boy  before  him. 

••  1 5ut  you  surely  will  not  expect  to  associate 
with    merchants?"    said    Mr.   George    Henry. 
"  Of  course,  I  intended  to  notice  you,  had  you.|» 
gone   into   a  store;    but  a  carpenter!    Sacrc JVv 
Of  course,  (i.'or^e  Henry  Wilton,  Shoe  Deal 
No.  —  Washington  street,  could'nt  be  expected 
to  know  one !  "  and   he  drew  himself  up  with 
what  he  would  have  called  an  air  of  fashionable 
non-chahmcc. 

i  e;:-!  a  look  of  ineffable  disdain  on  the 
ne    fellow ;    but    he    struggled   against   the 
;ig,   which    his    conscience    told    him    v. 
and,  more   in   pity   than   in   an^-r,   I,.1 


"  I  shall  "always  resjv  :f  too  much  to 

be  an  intruder  any  where,  I  trust.  I  have  no 
doubt  I  shall  have  as  much  society,  as  \\ill  be 
either  valuable,  or  agreeable  to  me.  At  any 
rate  I  intend  to  deserve  the  be-t.  I  i:;e;in  to 
make  myself  worthy  of  the  highe>t !  and  if  I 
do  not  have  it.  it  shall  not  be  my  fault  ! '" 

'•().  of — of — course"  —  replied  Mr. George 

Henry,  rather  stammeringly  —  "of  course,  you 

may  have  the  best  —  in  a  —  moral  —  point  of 

There  are,  you   know,  a   great  many 


24  THE    MECHANIC. 

good  people  in  low  life.  You  are  quite  right 
in  not  aspiring  to  fashionable  society.  So  if 
you  come  to  Boston,  Vic,  it  need'nt  affect  our 
private  friendship,  you  know,  if  I  should  cut 
you  in  the  street.  It  is  the  custom  of  the  city, 
you  know  —  or,  rather,  it  is  peculiar  to  the 
most  genteel  and  exclusive  circles."  And  he 
knocked  the  ashes  from  his  cigar,  with  an  air 
quite  as  gentlemanly  as  that  of  any  of  his  wasp 
waisted,  lisping  models. 

"  Not  in  the  least ; "  replied  Victor,  with  a 
smile  of  ill-repressed  scorn,  which  the  other 
was  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  notice,  or  even 
to  perceive.  "  Indeed,  I  think  our  PRIVATE 
FRIENDSHIP  will  never  incommode  either  of  us : 
and,  as  cutting  is  soon  to  be  a  necessary 
of  my  business,  allow  me  to  begin  now.  Tom 
and  I  have  that  to  say  which  needs  no  tbird 
person.  —  Mr.  George  Henry  Wilton,  I  wish 
you  a  very  good  evening."  And  he  bowed  with 
an  air  of  real  dignity,  which  quite  disconcerted 
the  shoe-dealer,  obtuse  as  were  his  perceptives. 
Victor  passed  his  arm  through  that  of  his  friend, 
and  the  two  boys  turned  into  another  path, 
leaving  the  exquisite-presumptive,  with  a  non 
plus  in  the  cavity  that  was  made  for  brain.  It 
was  this.  What  could  there  possibly  be  in  a 
country  boy  —  the  'prentice  to  a  carpenter, 


THE    MECHANIC.  25 

that  could  silence,  and  absolutely  CUT,  a  clerk 
of  one  of  the  largest  shoe-dealers  in  Boston  — 
and  he,  too,  just  going  into  business  for  himsdf. 

•  1  lu  !  ha  !  well  done,  Vic  !  "  almost  shouted 
Tom  ;  "  hut  you  made  me  think  of  a  lion  lift- 
ing his  great  paw  to  brush  off  a  fly.  You 
need'nt  have  smashed  the  insect  at  one  sweep." 

"  Where  there  is  nothing  to  hit,  there  is 
nothing  to  hurtj "  replied  Victor,  laughing : 
••  Mr.  George  Henry  Wilton,  with  his  dignity, 
his  gentility,  and  his  friendship,  are,  all,  alike 
safe. " 

"  But,  Vic,  now  that  puppy  is  gone,  a  word 
more  of  tliis  project  of  yours.  I  hold  that  the 
an  is  the  seat  of  true  dignity  and  honor,  not 
e  profession  ;  still  that  one  kind  of  business  is 
more  eligible  than  another,  all  will  say.  But, 
though  you  have  that  in  you  which  would  ele- 
vate any  calling,  it  seems  to  me,  after  all,  that, 
for  one  of  your  high,  romantic  notions,  you 
have  chosen  very  oddly.  I  should  sooner  have 
guessed  that  the  finest  scholar  of  our  academy 
would  have  chosen  to  be  a  poet,  or  a  painter; 
proving  himself  born  to  starve  in  a  garret,  with 
all  the  enviable  privileges  of  neglected,  though 
admired  genius.  I  should  have  thought  any 
thing  rather  than  of  your  being  a  carpenter. " 

"  I  have  ventured  to  use  my  reason,  roman- 


26  THE    MECHANIC. 

tic  as  I  am  ; "  replied  the  boy,  proudly.  "  You 
know  that  my  mother's  property  is  very  limited. 
She  wishes  me  to  go  to  college ;  and  is  willing 
to  make  great  sacrifices,  in  order  that  my  pro- 
fession, as  she  fondly  says,  may  correspond 
with  my  talents.  But  I  cannot  consent  to  this. 
You  know  it  would  be  a  long  time  before  I 
could  be  established,  so  as  even  to  support 
myself,  in  any  one  of  the  learned  professions, 
even  with  the  best  chance.  I  have  no  taste  for 
mercantile  business  ;  but  I  have  a  decided 
talent  for  mechanics  ;  and  I  believe  that  time 
will  prove  I  have  chosen  wisely.  I  shall  not 
only  carry  the  peference  of  taste  into  my  new 
business  ;  but  I  shall  go  into  it,  knowing  tha 
so  far  from  curtailing  the  comforts  of  my  mothe 
I  shall  soon  be  able,  even  with  common  success, 
to  add  to  them.  But  the  matter  is  decided 
now  ;  and  I  am  actually  about  to  be  appren- 
ticed to  Mr.  Gray,  who  is  now  in  A ;  and 

he  is  a  gentleman,  though  a  carpenter.     I  go 
to  Boston  next  month.  " 

"  Well,  success  to  you,  Vic ! "  replied  his 
friend  ;  and  the  boys  separated. 


CHAPTER   III. 

"  Farewell  —  a  word  tliat  hatli  been  anil  must  bo 
•nid  that  makes  us  linger  —  yet  —  farewell.  " 

BTROV. 

"  This  above  all,  —  to  thine  own  self  bo  true  : 
And  it  must  follow,  as  thn  night  to  day, 
Thou  canst  not,  then,  be  false  to  any  man.  " 

HA.MLKT. 

THE  time  of  parting  had  come.  Victor  had 
called  upon,  and  received  calls  from  all  his  old 
school-mates,  and  play-mates.  He  had  visited 
fondly  every  object  which  was  connected  to  his 
heart.  !>y  the  dear  associations  of  childhood  and 
happine-s.  lie  now  stood  on  the  threshold, 
with  his  arms  around  his  mother's  neck,  and 
his  tears  flowing  fast  upon  her  bosom.  Who 
can  tell  a  mother's  agony  when  she  thus  sees  a 
an  only,  as  yet  pure  son,  going  forth  into 
the  world,  as  gold  to  the  crucible — it  may  be 
to  become  yet  more  pure.  It  may  be  to 
mix  with  base  alloy  —  and  be  utterly  lost. 
But  must  he  not,  at  the  best,  lose  that  for 
which  no  substitute  can  be  found,  in  the  wide 
world  ?  the  watchfulness,  the  love,  the  unwea 
ried  ministering,  which  can  be  only  hers. 


23  THE    MECHANIC. 

"  Remember  my  son,"  said  the  matron,  as 
she  kissed  again  and  again  the  upturning  fore- 
head of  her  boy  ;  "  Remember  you  are  the 
child  of  many  prayers ;  and  let  that  thought  be 
with  you  in  the  midst  of  temptation.  Go  to 
the  throne  of  grace  morning  and  evening.  As 
long  as  you  are  punctual  in  this,  you  are  safe. 
Never  forget  the  worship  of  your  father's  house  ; 
but  never  give  up  to  any,  your  privileges  as  a 
free  moral  agent.  You  will  meet  with  many 
temptations  ;  but  scan  every  thing,  before  you 
believe.  O,  I  have  much  to  say,  my  son  !  and 
it  seerns  as  if,  at  this  moment,  my  heart  were 
gushing  over,  with  its  love,  and  its  fears."  She 
paused  as  if  choked.  For  the  first  time  on  that 
sad  day,  tears  gushed  into  her  eyes  ;  and  their 
full  flow  relieved  her. 

It  is  a  fitting  season  for  pious  admonition, 
when  the  heart  is  open  to  the  tenderest  emo- 
tions ;  for  the  truths  enforced,  being  there 
incorporated  with  affection,  sink  more  deeply 
into  the  heart,  and  are  cherished  more  fondly 
—  more  faithfully. 

The  stage-coach  was  already  waiting  at  the 
door ;  and  with  renewed  tears,  and  renewed 
embraces,  Victor  left  the  sheltering  bosom  and 
the  protecting  love  of  his  widowed  mother ; 
and  launched  out  into  a  world  of  temptation 


THE    MECHANIC.  29 

and  sin,  of  which  lie  yet  knew  nothing  ;  but 
his  bosom  was  shielded  by  a  principle  stronger 
than  adamant  —  the  pure  love  of  truth  and 
goodness,  inwrought  with  deep  and  earnest 
affection. 

It  was  the  Saturday  evening  of  a  cold  No- 
vember day,  when  Victor  was  set  down  at  the 
door  of  his  destined  employer.  The  cheerless 
whistle  of  the  wind,  as  it  went  shrieking  and 
moaning,  through  the  narrow  alleys,  and  round 
the  corners  of  the  streets,  heightened  the  drear- 
iness of  the  scene,  and  smote  upon  the  poor 
boy's  heart,  with  such  a  feeling  of  loss  and 
loneliness  as  he  had  never  before  felt.  For 
one  moment,  could  he  have  caught  win^s  he 
would  have  flown  back  to  his  mother's  arms. 
But  the  settled  purpose  of  his  being,  brightened 
again.  He  felt  the  power  and  the  dignity  of 
man  stirring  within  him  ;  and  he  was  strong. 
One  pious  thought  sped  back  to  that  dearly- 
loved,  and  trusting  mother  —  one  deep  vow  to 
be  all  that  mother  wished  —  all  she  prayed 
for,  was  breathed  in  the  silent  earnestness  of 
thought ;  and  then  he  was  calm  as  if  the  spirit 
of  the  full-formed  man,  had  suddenly  expanded 
within  the  bosom  of  the  almost  weeping  boy. 

The  house  our  hero  stood  before  was  a 
respectable  looking  one.  in  a  handsome  street  ; 
3* 


30  THE    MECHANIC. 

and  he  remained  a  moment,  thinking  of  the 
eventful  step  he  was  taking ;  and  then,  with  a 
beating  heart,  he  ventured  to  ring.  The  bell 
was  promptly  answered  by  a  benevolent  look- 
ing woman,  of  a  delicate,  and  even  lady-like 
appearance. 

"  Victor  Hyde,  I  presume ! "  said  the  lady, 
as  she  looked  at  his  luggage.  "  We  have  been 
expecting  you  for  some  time.  I  believe  the 
stage  is  rather  late  to-day.  But  you  can  set 
your  trunk  and  other  things  into  the  hall,  if  you 
please  ;  and  then  walk  in.  I  am  very  glad  you 
have  come, "  she  added,  as  she  cast  another 
glance  at  the  re-assured,  and  now  animated 
countenance  of  Victor.  He  was  ushered  into 
a  pleasant  sitting-room  where  he  found  a  young 
lady  of  very  prepossessing  appearance,  and  a 
boy  just  about  his  own  age ;  who,  with  a  bonny 
girl  of  seven  years,  made  the  family  of  Mr. 
Gray. 

"  Ednah, "  said  Mrs.  Gray  to  her  eldest 
daughter,  who  was  engaged  over  a  piece  of 
delicate  embroidery.  "  Ednah,  here  is  the 

young  man  from  A .  Robert,  set  a  chair, 

and  you  will  tell  him  something  of  the  city  — 
and  —  be  kind  to  him,  for  he  is  a  stranger," 
she  added,  as  she  detected  a  sinister,  if  not  a 
contemptuous  expression,  on  the  face  of  her  son. 


THE    MECHANIC.  31 


Master  Robert  gave  little  heed  to  his  mother's 
words ;  but,  taking  a  cigar  from  his  hat,  he 
lighted  it,  and  seating  himself  astride  a  chair, 
with  his  face  turned  to  the  back,  he  commenced 
smoking.  Ednah  cast  a  reproving  look  on  her 
brother ;  but  knowing  him  so  callous  that  any 
common  shaft  would  glance  off  pointless,  she 
merely  said,  "  you  know,  Robert,  smoking 
makes  me  sick  ;  why  will  you  do  so  ?  "  Then 
she  sat  down  by  the  young  stranger ;  and,  by 
her  kind  and  gentle  manners,  made  ample 
amends  for  her  brother's  rudeness  ;  while  Mrs. 
Gray  herself,  was  busy  in  the  kitchen.  The 
whole  aspect  of  the  room  spoke  the  truest  inde- 
pendence—  the  power  to  obtain  all  that  is 
needful — -much  that  is  elegant  —  with  no  vain 
reaching  after  extravagant  display — mere  out- 
ward show  —  indeed,  the  only  really  superfluous 
thing  in  the  room  was,  perhaps,  Robert's  cigar. 
Presently  in  came  a  buxom  Irish  girl,  who 
seemed  in  herself  the  very  personiGcation  of 
good  nature ;  and  she  set  the  table  in  a  manner 
that  showed  she  at  least,  in  some  way,  had 
acquired  habits  of  order  and  neatness.  Imme- 
diately after,  Mr.  Gray  came,  whom  lie  had 
met  at  A.,  with  his  journeyman,  George  Rankin, 
to  whom  Victor  was  duly  introduced.  So  we 
pass  over  this  first  day  of  our  hero's  seques- 


32  THE    MECHANIC. 

tration  from  home,  and  sojourn  among  stran- 
gers. 

Victor  had  left  home,  prepared  to  meet 
difficulties  and  determined  to  grapple  with  them 
manfully  ;  therefore  he  was  neither  surprised, 
nor  shocked,  when  called  upon  to  perform 
labors  to  which  he  had  hitherto  been  quite 
unaccustomed.  Mr.  Gray  was,  not  only  a 
first-rate  workman,  but  also  a  man  of  consider- 
able acquirement,  and  of  more  than  ordinary 
talent.  He  was  vigorous  and  efficient  in  busi- 
ness ;  and  his  industry  and  good  management 
had  met  their  reward.  The  wrorld  went  well 
with  him ;  and  as  yet,  in  all  the  relations  of 
life  he  was  happy  and  prosperous.  Victor 
found  no  apprentice  besides  himself;  and  only 
one  journeyman,  whom  we  have  just  mentioned. 
George  Rankin  was  one  of  those  singularly 
constituted  beings,  who  seem  to  turn  all  they 
touch  to  bitterness!  This  quality  of  mind  was 
indeed  kept  covered  with  the  nicest  art ;  but 
there  was  none  the  less  -gall,  because  it  was 
hidden.  By  apparent  devotion  to  his  interests, 
he  had  so  completely  won  the  confidence  of 
Mr.  Gray,  that  he  was  allowed  to  exercise  an 
almost  unbounded  influence  over  his  son.  In- 
deed, without  the  father's  ever  having  suspected 
it,  the,  latter  had  become  strongly  assimilated 


THI:  MECHANIC  33 

to,  and  a  willing  instrument  in  the  hands  of  a 
man,  who  appeared  to  be  almost  thoroughly 
envious  and  malicious.  Victor  soon  saw,  how- 
ever, that  Rohert  was,  by  no  means,  a  willingly 
vicious  boy.  The  love  of  mischief  was  his 
besetting  sin  ;  and  for  the  sake  of  a  frolic  — 
for  the  mere  love  of  fun  —  he  had  6rst  entered 
into  the  councils  of  his  elder  companion  ;  and 
being  of  an  exceedingly  reckless  temperament, 
the  very  daring  of  many  of  Rankin's  schemes, 
won  his  hearty  co-operation ;  while  the  guilt 
was  lost,  to  his  mind,  in  the  sport.  This  Victor 
was  very  soon  to  perceive ;  and,  though  in 
accordance  with  the  resolution  to  make  him 
their  butt,  a  great  number  of  potty  tricks  wore 
played  oil' upon  him,  from  time  to  time;  yet  he 
cherished  no  resentment ;  hut,  on  the  contrary, 
felt  a  deep-seated  and  ino^t  earnest  wish  to 
deliver  the:  misguided,  hut  often  generous  boy, 
from  the  toils  of  his  adversary.  In  this  spirit 
he  met  the  petty  attacks  of  the  other  with  so 
much  gentleness  and  dignity,  that  ho  soon  gave 
up  even  attempting  to  teu/e  him. 

But  Victor  became  more  and  more  delighted 
with  the,  intelligence  and  refinement  of  Miss 
Gray,  who  had  first  received,  and  still  contin- 
ued to  treat  him,  with  the  gentle  kindness  of 
an  older  and  affectionate  sister.  That  amiable 


34  THE    MECHANIC. 

and  accomplished  young  lady,  although  a  me- 
chanic's daughter,  was  gifted  with  mind  and 
manners  fit  to  adorn  and  dignify  any  station. 
She  was  assistant  teacher  in  a  high  school  of 
considerable  reputation  ;  and  was  already  en- 
gaged to  one  of  the  most  pomising  young 
lawyers  in  New-England, 

Mr.  Gray  was  a  thorough  business  man, 
possessed  of  intelligence,  with  no  inconsiderable 
degree  of  good  taste,  and  refinement,  he  yet 
made  the  grand  oversight,  which  many  such 
men  do.  While  he  labored  to  enlarge  the  for- 
tune, which  he  hoped  to  leave  his  son,  he  had 
entirely  neglected  to  mould  his  character  prop- 
erly. To  this  task  Mrs.  Gray,  had  she  been 
left  to  the  entire  management  of  the  boy,  might 
have  been  equal ;  for  she  was  a  woman  of 
singular  energy  and  firmness  of  purpose  and 
action  ;  and  these  qualities  were  combined, 
as  they  rarely  are,  with  great  gentleness  and 
delicacy  of  heart,  and  manner  ;  and  with  be- 
nevolence wide  as  the  wants  and  miseries  of 
her  fellow-creatures.  But  her  influence  was 
completely  broken  up,  and  lost,  by  the  care- 
lessness and  inattention  of  the  father,  leaning 
now  this  way,  now  that  —  now  granting  a  favor 
—  now  refusing  one  —  without  understanding 
the  reasons  in  either  case ;  and  all  because  his 


THE    MECHANIC.  33 

mind  was  engrossed  by  the  details  of  business. 
He  had  no  time  to  look  after  children  ;  and  the 
child  for  whom  he  labored  untiringly,  became 
well  nigh  lost  for  the  want  of  that  influence  — 
that  looking  through  daily  conduct  —  that  scan- 
ning of  motives  —  that  planting  of  good  seed 

O  IT  O  O 

at  the  needful  moment  —  and  that  lopping  off 
of  the  evil  branches  which  a  mother  may 
indeed  effect ;  but  which  still  wants  the  father's 
seal.  For  if  there  are  two  parents  the  great 
work  of  home  education,  can  only  be  wrought 
by  the  coincident  action  of  both.  A  higher 
degree  of  moral  and  religious  principle  would 
have  set  Mr.  Gray  right.  He  would  then  have 
seen  that  the  character  of  his  son  was  of  infi- 
nitely greater  importance  than  his  fortune. 
V/ith  her  girls  Mrs.  Gray  had  no  difficulty  ;  as 
they  never  appealed  to  their  father,  and  he 
never  interfered  in  their  management ;  and  her 
signal  success  with  them,  proved  her  fitness  for 
the  high  vocation  of  woman. 

On  the  first  Sabbath  after  Victor's  arrival  in 
Boston,  as  Mr.  Gray  was  ill,  the  former  attend- 
ed Mrs.,  Miss  Gray,  and  Annie  to  church  ;  for 
Robert  declared  that  going  to  church,  except 
the  Catholic  on  Christmas,  or  some  other  holy- 
day,  was  too  great  a  bore  to  be  thought  of, 
much  less  submitted  to.  Our  hero  was  not  a 


36  THE    MECHANIC, 

little  strengthened  by  the  high  character  of  the 
devotional  exercises,  which  were  different  from 
any  he  had  ever  before  witnessed,  or  united 
in  ;  and  he  now,  for  the  first  time,  began  to 
see  that  the  services  of  the  Christian  altar  are, 
indeed,  "  a  reasonable  service.  " 

It  was  the  practice  with  Mr.  Gray  to  be  very 
particular  in  the  choice  of  his  apprentices.  He 
drew  them  always  from  respectable  families, 
and  then  incorporated  them  as  members  of  his 
family,  with  all  the  rights  and  privileges  there- 
unto appertaining.  This  duty  is  shamefully 
neglected  by  many  of  the  wealthier  mechanics, 
who  are  in  the  habit  of  making  their  appren- 
tices and  journeymen  complete  underlings.  If 
they  wrould  reflect  at  all,  or  allowed  themselves 
to  trace  the  necessary  connection  between 
cause  and  effect,  they  would  see  that  the  surest 
way  to  elevate  themselves,  as  a  body,  would  be 
to  elevate  the  character  of  their  subordinates  ; 
who  are  destined,  in  turn,  to  take  their  places 
as  members  of  society,  and  of  the  body  politic. 

Even  the  Sabbath  did  not  go  by  without 
Victor's  having  been  several  times  annoyed  by 
the  petty  mischief  of  Robert,  which  he  soon 
saw  was  connived  at,  if  not  instigated  by 
Rankin.  The  latter  was  so  artful  as  to  make 
a  complete  dupe  of  Mr.  Gray ;  or  he  would 


THE     MECHANH.  37 

not  have  allowed  him  such  unbounded  intimacy 
with  his  son — a  confidence  which  he  abused 
in  the  worst  manner.  But  lie  was  always 
polite  and  decorous  at  home  ;  indeed,  his  man- 
ners, when  lie  chose,  had  an  appearance  of 
uncommon  frankness  and  good  humor.  To  his 
employer  he  always  paid  a  deference,  which 
was  particularly  agreeable  to  one  who  had  long 
exercised,  and  who  loved  power.  Added  to 
this  he  was  an  ingenious  mechanic  —  a  con> 
plete  workman.  In  these  facts  we  have  the 
secret  of  his  influence  over  the  mind  of  .Mr. 
tiray.  He  saw  that  Victor  was  fast  becoming 
a  general  favorite  with  tin;  family  ;  and  though 
he  forebore  to  speak,  or  act  openly,  he  cher- 
ished towards  the  unoffending  boy  a  deep  and 
malicious  hatred  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
our  hero  engaged  in  his  new  duties  with  an 
intelligence  and  a  determined  faithfulness,  which 
could  not  do  otherwise  than  win  approbation 
and  success.  Notwithstanding  the  strong  affec- 
tion he  had  cherished  for  the  things  of  his 
mother's  house,  Victor  was  delighted  with  his 
new  home  ;  and  for  the  stke  of  those  who 
were  always  so  good  to  him.  In-  forgave  Rob- 
ert's petty  annoyances,  and  tried  with  all  his 
power  to  conciliate  him  ;  but,  for  a  long  time, 
he  was  unsuccessful.  For  the  most  part  Kankia 
4 


38  THE    MECHANIC. 

treated  him  with  a  )cind  of  patronizing  atten- 
tion, which  was  sometimes,  however,  so  shallow 
as  to  show  the  MOTIVE,  that,  like  a  serpent,  lay 
coiled  beneath. 

On  the  evening  of  the  Sabhath  above  alluded 
to,  George  and  Robert,  who  were  always  bed- 
fellows, stood  listening  some  time  at  the  door  of 
Victor's  chamber,  after  he  had  retired. 

"  The  fellow's  praying  !  "  said  Rankin,  at 
length,  garnishing  the  exclamation  with  an  oath. 
"  That'll  do  very  well  among  the  owls  ;  but  we 
must  show  him  'twont  go  down  here.  How 
shall  we  contrive  to  fix  him  ?" 

Robert  whispered  something  in  the  ear  of 
his  companion  ;  and  on  tip-toe  they  both  with- 
drew to  their  own  chamber. 


CHAPTER  IV, 

"  Happ)  i«  tl'c  house  that  shelters  a  friend.  " 

EMERSON. 

To  the  blessing  of  himself,  his  friends,  and 
even  of  us  who  write  and  read  his  story,  our 
hero  established  himself,  at  first,  on  THE  RIGHT 
fJiiorND.  There  he  stood,  firm  as  the  rock 
itself.  He  saw  and  knew  he  uas  a  self-depen- 
dent being.  He  In-held  a  work  to  do  —  a  mis- 
sion to  perform.  Pent  d  vent  tire  it  was  to  teach 
men,  what  they  arc  —  to  shew,  by  a  beautiful 
correspondence  of  outward  action  with  the  in- 
dwelling spirit,  that  there  is  dignity  ;  that 
there  is  virtue  ;  that  there  is  piety  ;  that  there 
is  MANHOOD  —  in  man.  Strange  that  he  should 
thus,  uninstructed  and  alone,  have  reached  the 
height,  which  for  one  who  so  much  as  looks  at, 
thousands  do  not  even  dream  of.  No,  not 
strange,  either.  He  only  lUtened  to  the  being 
within  himself,  and  that  taught  him.  He  did 
not  go  abroad  (o  ask  what  he  was,  or  what  he 
should  be.  lie  looked  into  his  own  bosom  and 
ived  liiiht.  He  felt  the  godlike  nature  of 


40  THE     MECHANIC. 

man  Stirling  within  him  ;  and  he  was  strong. 
He  was  strong  as  if  girded  by  the  armor  of 
Achilles  ;  yea,  and  stronger.  There  was  no 
pervious  heel  for  the  shaft  of  his  adversary. 
What  then  could  outward  circumstance  be  to 
such  a  mind  ?  Could  employment  the  delicacy 
or  roughness  of  the  hands,  the  texture  or  fashion 
of  the  garments,  affect  a  spirit  that  knows  and 
appreciates  itself?  Never.  On  the  other  hand 
there  is  that  in  the  trite  man  which  gives  dignity 
to  the  meanest  labor,  and  renders  the  most  ser- 
vile occupation  beautiful.  You  may,  indeed, 
be  haughty,  and  toss  your  heads,  ye  who  have 
never  entered  into  commnmcarion  with  such  a 
spirit.  You  may  exclude  him  from  your  table, 
your  society  ;  you  may  even  affect  not  to  see 
him,  as  you  pass  him  in  the  streets  !  But  can 
you  hurt  him  ?  Aim  a  penny  arrow  at  the 
eternal  Sun  1  You  cannot  reach  it,  much  less, 
injure  it ! 

Trite  to  the  voice  that  was  speaking  in  his 
soul,  Victor  devoted  his  leisure  time  either  to 
judicious  reading  and  study,  or  to  the  more 
healthful  communion  with  nature  :  and  now 
that  these  moments  were  limited,  they  gave 
him  more  intense  pleasure  than  ever.  On  him, 
being  the  only  apprentice,  devolved  the  business 
of  taking  care  of  the  cow,  milking,  getting  in 


THE     MECHANIC.  41 

wood,  coal  and  water  ;  with  many  minor  mat- 
ters ;  yet  none  of  these  things  degraded  him  : 
and  he  had,  in  winter,  many  leisure  hours, 
which  he  found  every  day  were  growing  more 
and  more  precious.  He  obtained  from  the 
Mechanics'  Library,  to  which  he  had  access 
through  the  membership  of  Mr.  Gray,  a  valua- 
ble work  on  Architecture  ;  and  the  more  he 
read,  the  more  lie  was  determined  to  master 
that  noble  science.  He  began  more  and  more 
to  justify  himself  in  the  choice  of  his  profession. 
He  saw  that  it  was,  indeed,  a  noble  one,  capa- 
ble of  giving  scope  to  the  eunn'ingest  skill,  as 
well  as  the  loftiest  genius.  In  short  he  was 
getting  enthusiastic  in  his  love.  These  habits 
were  not  unobserved  by  Miss  Gray,  who  kindly 
invited  him  to  commence  a  course  of  historical 
reading,  which  he  gladly  accepted  ;  and  with 
much  profit  to  them  both,  they  employed,  in 
this  manner,  a  portion  of  almost  every  evening. 
The  advantages  which  Victor  derived  from  this 
friendship  can  hardly  be  estimated.  It  not  only 
drew  him  from  evil  company,  but  was  continu- 
ally exerting  a  positively  good  influence  —  in  the 
polish  of  manner  —  in  the  elevation  of  taste  — 
in  the  cultivation  of  the  understanding.  Does 
any  apprentice  boy  say,  "  I  could  never  have 
that  chance !  "  I  reply,  Let  him  be  what  Vie- 
4* 


42  THE     MECHANIC. 

tor  Hyde  was,  TRUE  TO  HIMSELF  ;  and  there 
will  always  be  some  noble  spirit  near  with 
whom  to  take  sweet  counsel  —  or  if  there  be 
none,  there  is  the  spirit  of  great  men  in  books  — 
the  spirit  of  God  in  nature.  Let  him  then  not 
cease  to  be  man,  because  a  butterfly,  vain  of 
his  gaudy  wings,  flutters  by  and  heeds  him  not. 
Let  him  not  die  —  let  him  live.  And  the  true 
spirit  shall  beat  hand  —  for  "as  face  answered) 
to  face  in  water,  "  so  doth  the  true  spirit  ever 
respond  to  the  true  ;  and  its  call  is  heard  even 
from  afar. 

But  to  return.  The  superior  age  of  Miss  Gray 
—  then  about  twenty-two  —  her  high  attain- 
ments ;  her  acquaintance  with  the  literature  of 
the  day  ;  her  lovely  person  and  winning  man- 
ner ;  but,  above  all,  her  high  moral  dignity  and 
consistency,  made  her  a  delightful  teacher,  and 
an  invaluable  friend.  She  had  tried  her  utmost 
to  get  Robert  to  join  their  circle  ;  but  to  no  pur- 
pose. Victor  soon  came  to  be  set  before  Robert 
as  an  example  of  good  taste,  and  scholarship  ; 
and  this  added  no  little  to  the  mischievous  spite, 
which  the  latter  continued  to  feel  for  the  young 
stranger.  So  well  pleased  was  Mr.  Gray  with 
the  intelligence  and  faithfulness  of  his  appren- 
tice, that  he  presented  him  with  a  season  ticket 
to  a  course  of  scientific  lectures.  So  passed 


THE     MECHANIC.  43 

a\vay  the  winter  ;  and  not  to  one,  even  of  the 
highest.  I  venture  to  say,  did  it  give  more  hap- 
piness, or  leave  more  profit  —  more  real  advan- 
tage— than  to  our  humble  apprentice  boy  ;  for 
he  had  established  a  relation — or  rather  had 
detected  the  relationship  between  him  and  the 
external  world.  Tilings  to  him  had  a  meaning. 
Ideas  woke,  either  rejecting  or  corresponding 
ideas.  He  was  not  a  machine.  He  became  a 
living  and  pervading  presence.  He  entered 
into  his  subject,  and  filled  it  with  himself — 
with  his  heart  —  his  soul  —  his  mind.  But  not 
yet  had  he  reached  the  Highest  Thought  ;  nor 
caught  even  the  remotest  expression  of  that 
thought.  In  his  Religion  he  was  not  yet  posi- 
He  had  taken  his  Belief,  because  his 
fathers  had  the  same  —  because  it  was  sanc- 
tioned by  the  authority  of  great  and  good  men 
—  because,  in  short,  every  body  worth  caring 
for  sanctioned  it  ;  and  to  be  without  it  was  to 
be  not  respectable — yet  not  because  he  had 
weighed  it,  mea-urcd  it,  scanned  it  —  and  knew 
that  it  was  full,  and  good,  and  true.  He  had 
not  gone  aside  far  enough,  even  to  behold  it. 
He  stood  within  its  own  shadow  and  how  could 
he  understandiirjy  rounder  its  proportions  ;  or 
even  appreciate  it>  defects  and  beauties  ':  \  I 


44  THE     MECHANIC. 

the  refiner's  fire  was  at  hand  ;  and  the  day  even 
for  these  things,  also. 

In  another  way  Miss  Gray  was  of  great  ser- 
vice to  our  hero.  He  had  a  decided  talent  for 
drawing  ;  and  that  excellent  young  lady,  on 
discovering  some  rude  attempts  at  copying  ar- 
chitectural designs,  which  indicated  talent  un- 
derneath, began  at  first  gently  to  direct  him, 
and  afterwards  gave  him  regular  lessons  ;  for 
she  was,  herself,  a  proficient  in  the  theory  of 
that  elegant  art  ;  and  the  scholar  did  ample 
credit  to  the  skill  and  untiring  exertions  of  the 
teacher.  All  these  kindnesses  were  not  un- 
marked by  Rankin  ;  and  Victor  was  not  long 
in  perceiving  that  the  latter  regarded  him  as  a 
rival  in  the  good  graces  of  the  young  lady  ; 
although  her  superior  age  and  previous  engage- 
ment, must  have  precluded  all  thoughts  of  any 
other  than  the  purest — nay  the  necessary  friend- 
ship, between  two  persons  of  taste  and  genius, 
who  were  thus  constantly  associated.  In  short 
Rankin  was  a  rejected  suitor  of  Miss  Gray. 
She  had  long  since  declined  receiving  his  ad- 
dresses, kindly  but  positively  ;  and  until  the 
period  of  Victor's  coming,  he  had  appeared  for 
a  long  time  perfectly  resigned  to  his  fate.  He 
seldom  sought  her  society  —  indeed,  he  gene» 


THE     MECHANIC.  -1,3 

rally  avoided  her  with  studious  care.  But  the 
attentions  she  bestowed  on  Victor,  carried  home 
a  new  dart  to  the  covered,  but  not  healed 
wound,  thus  exciting  the  venom,  with  which  his 
nature  was  redundant.  But  he  was  too  cun- 
ning a  diplomatist  to  commit  himself  by  any 
overt  act  of  unkindnes.-.  Every  circumstance 
was  invested  with  his  own  bitterness,  and  treas- 
ured up  against  the  day  of  wrath,  which  he  had 
inly  sworn  should  come. 

As  the  spring  opened,  Victor  discovered  that 
himself  and  Miss  Gray  had  another  coincident 
taste.  The  latter  was  an  ardent  devotee  of 
that  charming  science,  \\hich  no  woman  should 
fail  to  make  herself  acquainted  with  —  she  was, 
in  short,  an  intelligent  and  practical  botanist. 
This  study  also  from  his  quick  perception  of 
the  beautiful,  and  ardent  love  of  nature,  \\u- 
peculiarly  adapted  to  the  mind  of  Victor.  Ji- 
had taken  it  up  during  the  last  term  he  had 
attended  school  at  the  Academy  of  his  native 
town,  and  advanced  so  far  as  to  perceive  its 
beautiful  system,  and  to  take  much  interest  in 
gathering,  analy/inir,  and  preserving  specitii' 
Since  then  it  had  been  hallowed  and  shrined  in 
his  bosom,  with  one  of  the  sweetest  memories 
that  ever  stirred  a  gentle  and  loving  heart, 
But  when  he  found  that  Mi.-s  dray  had  a  kin- 


46  TJiE     MECHANIC. 

dred  taste — and  that  much  more  highly  culti- 
vated than  his  own  —  not  only  love  for  the 
science  itself,  but  gratitude  to  his  charming 
preceptress,  prompted  him  to  renewed  interest. 
Every  swamp,  wood,  meadow,  marsh,  and  river 
side  was  made  to  yield  a  part  of  its  hidden 
treasures  ;  and  never  a  holyday  came  without 
bringing  some  valuable  addition  to  Miss  Gray's 
Herbarium,  through  the  untiring  earnestness  of 
her  grateful  young  friend. 

Here,  again,  let  not  the  poor  boy  say,  "  The 
Natural  Sciences  are  entirely  beyond  my  reach," 
for,  in  this  also,  he  is  wrong.  Behold,  is  not  a 
fly,  a  moth,  a  flower,  a  stone,  a  hit  of  earth, 
cheap  ?  Yet  each  of  these  is  a  study.  These 
are  the  spontaneous  publications  of  nature, 
which  she  scatters  abroad  over  her  whole  do- 
main, even  that  the  poor  may  gather  them 
together  and  read.  A  manual  containing  the 
Elements  of  any  one  of  the  natural  sciences 
may  be  bought  for  less  money  than  even  the 
poorest  boys  among  us  spend  in  a  year  for 
cross-bows,  and  crackers,  and  srjtubs,  and  gun- 
powder, which  they  are  better  without  than 
with  ;  and  the  time  consumed  in  mischief  would 
be  sufficient  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  any  one 
of  the  natural  sciences,  besides  furnishing  health- 
ful, instead  of  troublesome,  wanton  and  danger- 
,ous  exercises. 


,     CHAPTER  V. 

"  Mark  you  this,  Bassanio, 

Tlio  devil  can  cite  scripture  for  liis  purpose. 

An  evil  soul  producing  Imly  witness, 

Is  like  a  villain  with  a  smiling  clici.-k  ; 

A  goodly  apple  rotten  at  tin;  heart  ; 

O,  \vliat  a  goodly  outside  falsehood  hath  !  " 

MKKCIIAST  OK  VENICE. 

Hut  this  height  of  happiness  was  not  to  last 
long  ;  or  rather  it  was  to  be  tested.  Kankin 
had  forhorne  making  any  observations  upon 
Victor's  religious  habit-: — his  strict  attention  to 
all  the  duties  enjoined  by  the  spirit  of  Christi- 
anity—  but,  after  a  while,  whenever  he  could 
find  him  alone  in  his  chamber,  he  began  to 
throw  out  sly  but  keen  inuendos.  One  evening 
it  happened  — it  was  not  a  very  common  thing 
—  as  Kankin  seldom  came  home  until  late,  that 
they  ascended  the  stairs  at  the  same  time. 
After  a  few  moments  the  lalter  knocking  slight- 
ly, threw  open  the  door  familiarly,  and  entered 
the  room  of  Victor.  The  latter  was  engaged, 
as  usual,  in  reading  a  chapter  before  he  retired. 
His  visitor  stood  over  him  a  few  minutes  ;  and 


48  THE     MECHANIC. 

then  said  in  a  low  tone,  in  which  it  were  diffi- 
cult to  guess  whether  was  embodied  irony,  ridi- 
cule, or  merely  a  simple  enquiry.  "  Christian, 
eh  ? " 

"  What  did  you  observe  r  "  returned  Victor, 
looking  up. 

"  I  meant  to  ask, "  he  replied,  confronting 
the  other,  and  fixing  his  keen  eyes,  now  glisten- 
ing like  those  of  the  basilisk,  full  upon  his 
unwavering  countenance.  "  I  meant  to  ask 
whether  you  call  yourself  a  Christian  ?  " 

"  That  is  a  curious  question.  " 

"  Not  so  curious,  my  dear  fellow  returned  the 
other  ;  "  You  certainly  have  been  in  town  long 
enough,  to  see  that  there  is  not  a  young  man  of 
spirit  in  the  city,  who  would  wear  the  fetters  of 
Priestcraft.  Religion,  to  be  sure,  will  do  well 
enough  for  babies  —  for  boys  who  are  content 
to  hang  forever  at  their  mother's  apron  strings 
—  but  for  fellows  of  pith  and  marrow,  like  you 
and  me  —  who  have  minds  of  our  own  —  who 
can  think,  and  reason,  and  judge.  We  can  be 
a  law  to  ourselves.  Religion  will  do  well 
enough  to  furnish  excitement  for  disappointed 
old  Maids,  and  bread  for  idle,  sycophantic 
Priests  ;  but  you,  my  dear  fellow,  with  your 
brilliant  intellect  —  have  you  not  guessed  before 
now  that  it  is  all  a  humbug  ?  "  As  he  spoke  he 


THE  MECHANIC,  49 

sed  himself  into  the  chair  of  Victor,  and 
passed  an  arm  round  his  waist,  with  the  most 
winning  kindness  of  manner, 

"I  do  not  like  to  hear  such  language, "  re- 

O  O      ' 

turned  Victor,  the  severity  of  his  rehuke  soften- 
ed by  the  apparent  kindness  of  the  other ;  "  and 
I  beg  of  you  to  spare  me.  We  shall  not  agree. 
If  we  converse,  let  it  be  upon  some  subject 
which  we  do  not  think  so  differently  about. " 

"  I  know  advisers,  and  true,  honest  friends, 
generally  get  few  thanks  for  their  pains  ;  and 
yet,  "  added  Rankin.  "  so  great  is  the  interest  ! 
feel  for  you,  that  I  cannot  bear  to  see  one  so 
bk-sscd  by  nature  with  the  rarest  gifts,  crippled 
down  by  miserable  impositions,  fit  only  for  silly 
oldVomen.  O,  you  are  like  the  rest !"  he  said, 
accidentally  throwing  off  his  veil,  "  You  dare 
not  think  for  yourself!  You  are  all  one  pack 
of  fools  !" 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  think  differently  from  what 
I  do, "  replied  Victor,  taking  advantage  of 
Kankin's  oversight,  and  recovering  his  self-pos- 
session. "  I  do  not  wish  to  change  my  opinion, 
because  I  fully  believe  I  am  right. " 

"  And  so  do  I,  my  brave  fellow  !  "  returned 
the  other,  with  a  change  of  countenance  and 
manner,  rapid  as  thought.  "  You  have  stood 
5 


50  THE    MECHANIC. 

the  test  ;  and  I  now  feel  you  are  woithy  of  all 
confidence.  "  He  arose,  and  after  walking  the 
room  a  few  minutes,  returned  to  the  side  of  the 
now  astonished  Victor. 

"  Listen  to  me  ;  "  he  said,  "  I  have  found 
much  hypocrisy  in  the  garb  of  religion  ;  or,  to 
use  the  familiar  phrase,  I  have  often  found  the 
wolf  in  sheep's  clothing.  For  this  reason  I  did 
not  dare  to  trust  you,  without  making  trial  of 
the  strength  of  your  principles.  I  am  con- 
vinced, I  honor  the  courage  with  which  you 
defend  your  faith,  as  I  honor  the  faith  itself. " 

Victor  was  far  too  single-hearted,  and  straight- 
forward in  thought  and  purpose,  to  understand 
the  deep  and  bitter  irony  of  this.  He  thought, 
indeed,  that  he  had  in  no-wise  defended  his 
faith  ;  but  had  rather  made  that  a  defence  for 
himself  and  his  own  weakness.  He  knew  not 
what  to  think.  He  was  bewildered, 

"  Now  that  we  understand  each  other, "  re- 
sumed Rankin,  "we  must  be  friends;"  and 
drawing  the  softened  youth  to  his  arms,  and 
gently  embracing  him,  he  added,  "  I  am  a 
strange  creature,  Victor,  I  am  full  of  harrassing 
fears  and  distressing  doubts.  My  mind  is  very 
far  from  being  quite  settled.  What  do  you  say 
to  commencing  the  Bible  with  me  ?  We  can 


THE    MECHANIC.  51 

read  a  few  chapters  every  night  after  we  come 
into  our  chambers  ;  and  perhaps  we  can  assist 
each  other. " 

To  this  wily  proposition  Victor  gladly  assent- 
ed ;  and  as  Rankin  withdrew  from  the  room, 
he  proposed  to  commence  the  next  evening  ; 
and  the  innocent,  noble-hearted  boy  knew  not 
that  the  kiss  which  was  imprinted  on  his  fair, 
upturned  brow  was  like  that  of  Judas. 

The  next  evening  they  met,  according  to 
appointment,  in  the  room  of  Victor,  and  com- 
menced the  Bible.  They  read  together  the 
chapters  on  the  Creation  and  the  Fall  of  Man, 

••  Now  do  you  see  no  difficulty  in  all  this  ?  !> 
.-aid  Rankin,  as  they  concluded  the  last  chapter. 
None  at  all ;  "  replied  Victor,    "  It  appears 
\ay  plain  to  me.  " 

"  There  is  an  obstinate  difficulty  in  MY  way  ;" 
returned  Rankin.  "  Did  the  Almighty  before 
he  created  man  intend  to  introduce  evil,  or  was 
his  design  frustrated  : '' 

••  t  believe,"  replied  Victor,  "that  it  was  his 
intention  to  produce  just  such  a  state  of  thin  us 
as  now  exists  —  a  state,  not  perfect  in  itself, 
luii  containing  all  the  elements  of  perfection. " 

•  I  Jut    how   could   a    perfectly    good   Being 
create  sin  ?     If  you  admit  that  God  created,  or 


52  THE    lffECHANIC. 

designed  sin,  you  must  also  admit  that  he  is  not 
perfectly  holy. " 

"  I  see  no  necessity  for  this.  In  making  man 
a  free  agent,  with  perfect  liberty  to  choose  be- 
tween good  and  evil,  he  has  given  him  the 
power  of  acquiring  positive  goodness  ,*  which 
he  never  could  have  had,  were  he  so  constitut- 
ed by  nature  as  to  be  incapable  of  sin.  Here, 
Mr.  Rankin,  is  a  book  on  this  very  subject, 
which  I  wish  you  to  read.  I  have  lately  read 
it  with  much  pro6t. "  As  he  spoke  he  drew 
from  his  little  book -case  a  volume  entitled, 
"  CHEERING  VIEWS  OF  MAN  AND  PROVI- 
DENCE, drawn  from  REFLECTIONS  on  the  NA- 
TURE, ORIGIN,  and  USE  OF  EVSL.  " 

"  Ha,  by  Burton !  Heterodox,  already,  I 
see  !  "  exclaimed  Rankin.  "  I  will  read  the 
book  for  your  sake,  my  dear  Victor,  and  then 
we  will  finish  our  argument  ;  for  I  see  I  must 
be  armed  at  all  points,  to  combat  you — no,  " 
he  added>  checking  himself,  "  to  keep  up  sides 
with  you.  You  must  be  my  teacher,  Victor ;  " 
and  again  he  took  leave  of  the  affectionate  but 
now  flattered  boy. 

Thus  they  met,  evening  after  evening,  and 
read  as  before  ;  the  artful  Rankin,  who  was- 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  all  the  shoals  and 


THE   MECHANIC.  53 

breakers  of  the  Christian  system,  starting  one 
difficulty  after  another,  in  his  apparent  seeking  * 
after  truth.  These  were  suggested  so  inciden- 
tally—  so  artfully  —  with  such  well  affected 
sorrow — and  seeming  earnestness  of  zeal,  that 
every  one  left  the  germ  of  doubt  in  the  mind  of 
the  simple  hearted  boy.  lie  \\;H  in  great  dan- 
ger. He  was  fast  losing  the  stulilr  ground  of 
his  faith.  There  was  one  thing  and  but  one 
thing,  saved  him.  His  mother  was  capable  of 
directing  him,  and  he  confided  all  to  her.  Not 
yet  was  his  entire  deliverance.  Not  yet  was 
he  strong  enough  to  contend  for  the  boon  of 
positive  and  perfect  liberty.  Rankin  felt  it 
prudent  to  change  his  modus  opcrundi  ;  yet  he 
still  took  Victor  to  meeting  in  different  parts  of 
the  city,  so  he  might  hear  the  opinions  of  all 
the  various  sects,  and  learn  something  of  their 
particular  modes  of  worship.  One  Sabbath 
afternoon  he  came  home  unexpectedly,  and 
told  Victor  he  had  come  on  purpose  to  invite 
him  to  attend  the  meeting  of  a  great  preacher  ; 
and  as  he  spoke  of  this  freely,  and  at  length  in 
a  letter  to  his  mother,  let  us  turn  to  that  letter  ; 
which  will  be  only  turning  to  the  next  chapter, 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  'T  is  one  thing  to  be  tempted,  Escalus, 
Another  thing  to  fall." 

MEASURE  FOR  MEASURE. 

LETTER    FROM    VICTOR   TO    HIS    MOTHER. 

BOSTON,  July  4,  18 — . 
(:  As  this  is  a  holyday,  my  dear  mother,  I 
gladly  devote  a  part  of  it  to  you.  And  first,  let 
me  thank  you  for  the  present  of  the  nice  warm 
stockings  you  sent  me  last  Fall,  which  I  forgot 
to  mention  every  time  I  have  written  since. 
They  were  so  soft  and  warm  —  rather  too 
warm,  indeed,  to  think  of  this  hot  July  day  — 
but  they  are  very  different  from  the  coarse 
rough  things  they  buy  at  the  stores.  After  all, 
mother,  I  believe  I  do  love  the  country  best  ; 
the  clear  good  country.  There  are  a  great 
many  fine  things  here,  to  be  sure  j  but  there 
arc  also  a  great  many  bad  ones.  I  am  finding 
them  out  every  day,  more  and  more.  But  I 
hope  I  am  grateful,  as  I  feel  I  ought  to  be, 
mother,  to  the  kind  Providence  that  has  placed 
rae  in  this  excellent  family.  Mrs.  Gray  is 


THE     MECHANIC.  55 

almost  like  a  mother.  She  is  very  different 
from  the  mistresses  which  most  of  my  fellow 
apprentices  have,  if  they  tell  the  truth.  1  be- 
lieve it  is  pretty  generally  customary  among 
the  higher  order  of  mechanics  to  treat  apprenti- 
ces, especially  the  younger  ones,  as  menials, 
rather  than  equals.  They  are,  I  am  told,  seldom 
invited  into  the  parlor,  when  there  is  company 
present.  They  are  allowed  to  go  wherever 
they  please  on  the  Sabbath.  They  have  little 
or  no  religious  instruction,  even  among  the  pro- 

iiy  pious  ;  and  their  wants  are  seldom 
enquired  into.  But  here,  mother,  you  cannot 
think  how  different  it  is!  If  I  eat  1<  -s  than 
usual,  or  look  soberer  than  common.  Mrs.  Gray 

;  just  as  quick  as  if  I  were  her  ov,  a  child  ; 
just  as  quick  as  you  would,  moth*  :.  and  she 
finds  out  all  my  trouble  ;  and  she  doctor  me, 
and  comforts  me,  just  as  you  do.  An 
Gray  —  I  have  told  you  before  what  she  is  ; 
but  I  never  can  speak  enough  of  her.  O.  she 
is  so  good,  and  so  kind,  and  so  beautiful  —  I 
can  never  tell  half.  She  is  now  teaching  mo 
to  draw  ;  and  she  says  I  make  great  progress  ; 
but  she  is  so  amiable.  Mother  don't  you  think 
it  is  a  grand  thincr  I  am  learning  to  draw,  and 
all  at  leisure  hours,  too,  without  paying  any 
money  ?  It  is  to  me  a  delightful  recreation.  I 


56  THE     MECHANIC. 

mean  to  be  an  Architect.  You  shall  never  be 
dissatisfied  with  the  station  I  shall  gain.  I 
have  looked  at  it,  mother.  I  have  thought  of 
it  ;  and  my  determination  is  fixed.  It  will  re- 
quire long  and  unwearied  exertion  —  perhaps 
much  self-sacrifice  ;  but  I  have  fixed  my  mark 
high  ;  and  I  am  determined  that  nothing  shall 
divert  me  from  it. 

Since  I  have  come  to  this  great  city,  where 
the  distinctions  of  rank  are  so  much  more  glar- 
ing than  they  are  in  the  country,  I  have  only 
become  more  fixed  in  my  former  opinion,  that 
the  real  dignity  of  man,  does  not  rest  in  his 
profession,  nor  in  the  amount  of  money  he  may 
have  ;  but  in  the  mental  and  moral  power 
which  ho  is  'capable  of  exerting.  Mechanics, 
!1  a<  laboring  people,  generally  fail  in 
want  of  self-respect.  They  are  willing  to  take 
inferior  places,  when  they  might  command  high- 
er. A  certain  set  names  them  an  inferior  caste  ; 
and  they  subscribe  to  it  —  with  grumbling  and 
hard  words,  it  may  be ;  but  still  their  own  hand 
and  seal  is  there  ;  or  the  parchment  could  never 
be  valid  —  still  they  crouch  when  the  rich  man 
goes  by  —  slill  they  cry  out  against  wealth,  and 
Rank,  and  Fashion  —  and  still  they  meanly 
enry  them  ;  until  there  is  no  principle  of  man- 
liness left  in  them,  In  this  spirit  their  families 


THE     MECHANIC.  57 

are  brought  up  ;  and  so  the  evil  is  perpetuated. 
Taking  it  for  granted  that  they  cannot  and 
should  not  rise  to  a  level  with  the  highest,  they 
neither  prepare  themselves,  nor  their  families, 
for  any  thing  better,  or  higher.  As  a  general 
truth  I  believe  that  men  will  be  respectable, 
and  respected,  only  just  as  far  as  they  respect 
themselves.  But  enough  of  this,  mother.  I 
have  a  confession  to  make. 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  be  a  very  severe  judge. 
Where  do  you  think  I  was,  last  Sabbath,  after- 
noon ?  You  cannot  guess.  I  must  Jell  you. 
Do  not  be  alarmed,  mother;  but  I  \va>  actually 
listening  to  the  celebrated  atheist, .  Be- 
lieve me,  I  should  never  have  gone  voluntarily 
to  hear  him,  but  I  was  invited  by  Mr.  Rankin, 
(whose  sincerity,  between  ourselves.  I  have  still 
increasing  reason  to  doubt)  to  go  and  h^ar  a 
great  preacher,  whose  name  he  refused  to  tell 
me.  But  I  soon  found  out  that  I  could  be  lis- 
tening to  none  other  than  the  notorious  person, 
whose  name,  being  coupled  with  blasphemy 
and  persecution,  has  made  so  much  stir  lately. 
I  will  first  tell  you,  dear  mother,  in  order  to 
relieve  your  affectionate  heart,  that  I  neither 
intend,  nor  wish  to  go  again  ;  and  that  a  system 
sustained  by  arguments  so  entirely  superficial, 
has  rather  strengthened  my  reliance  on  what  I 


' 


OO  THE     MECHANIC. 

consider  the  true  faith.  And  now,  as  you  are, 
without  doubt,  curious  to  know  how  these  meet- 
ings are  conducted,  I  will  endeavor  to  describe 
the  one  I  attended.  I  should  think  there  might 
have  been  2000  persons  present.  A  great  por- 
tion of  them  appeared  to  be  dashing  young  men 
of  the  city.  There  were  also  many  Mechanics 
and  decent  respectable  looking  people,  with 
their  families.  The  great  numbers  Ije  draws 
together  are,  without  doubt,  owing  to  the  perse- 
cution he  has  suffered  ;  and  I  venture  to  say 
that  if  he  were  left  undisturbed  for  a  while,  his 
audience  would  soon  dwindle  into  nothing. 
The  services  commenced  by  reading  a  hymn  in 
praise  of  Wisdom.  This  was  then  sung  by  the 
congregation  to  a  spirited  and  very  animating 

air.     Mr. then  read  a  chapter  from  one 

of  the  French  Philosophers  on  the  organization 
of  Matter.  He  then  gave  another  hymn  in 

praise  of  Truth.    Then  came  the  lecture.    

is  one  of  the  most  dignified  and  venerable  look- 
ing men  I  ever  saw.  His  hair  is  perfectly 
white  ;  and  his  whole  appearance  truly  apos- 
tolical. He  is,  as  you  know,  a  man  of  talent, 
and  I  am  inclined  to  think,  sincere  in  his  belief, 
His  subject  was  the  Christian  doctrine  of  SIN. 
He  gave  a  very  ingenious  argument  in  defence 
of  his  creed,  the  fallacy  of  which  was  easily  to 


THE    MECHANIC.  59 

be  detected  by  an  educated  man,  or  by  one  ac- 
customed to  think  ;  but  it  was  precisely  suited 
to  the  minds  of  his  audience  ;  and,  no  doubt,  it 
produced  a  strong  effect.  Indeed  I  have  sel- 
dom heard  a  speaker,  who  was  possessed  of 
such  plausible  and  ingenious  sophistry. 

••  .Mother,  dearest,  do  write  to  me,  and  advise 
me  what  to  do.  I  really  believe,  now,  that 
Rankin  is  insincere  in  his  professions  ;  but  I 
know  not  how  to  escape  his  society.  He  treats 
me  so  kindly  that  I  can  find  no  excuse  for  cut- 
ting him,  as  the  fashionable  phrase  here  is.  I 
want  to  tell  Miss  Gray,  and  ask  her  advice  ; 
but  she  seems  to  dislike  any  reference  to  him  so 
much,  that  I  really  dare  not.  Poor  Miss  Gray  ! 
I  really  wish  she  had  a  better  brother.  I  wish 
it  for  the  sake  of  all  the  family,  as  well  as  for 
his  own.  I  have  some  hope  of  him,  even  yet. 
The  son  of  such  parents  and  the  brother  of  such 
a  sister,  cannot  be  all  bad. 

"Dear  mother,  I  bid  you  once  more  adieu, 
and  remain  your  ever  dutiful  and  affectionate 
son.  VICTOR  HYDE. 

P.  S*  I  met  Mr.  George  Henry  Wilton  the 
other  day,  in  Washington  street.  I  had  on  my 
short  jacket,  and  I  was  carrying  a  basket  of 
nails  in  my  hand.  The  carpenter  was  quite 
evident.  He  was  with  some  very  finely  dressed 


60  THE     MECHANIC. 

gentlemen.  Nevertheless,  I  cut  him,  before  he 
could  get  a  chance  to  cut  me.  I  looked  him 
full  in  the  face,  with  a  strange  and  wild  stare, 
which  disconcerted  him  so  that  he  was  thrown 
off  his  guard  ;  and  he  involuntarily  recognised 
me  by  a  nod  ;  which  I  only  returned  by  staring 
at  him  again,  as  if  he  were  the'most  impertinent 
and  insolent  fellow  under  heaven.  Henceforth 
we  meet  as  entire  strangers.  I  never  see  Bella 
Thompson.  What  do  you  think  is  the  reason, 
mother  ? " 

The  reception  of  this  letter  occasioned  some 
uneasiness  in  the  mind  of  the  widowed  mother  ; 
but  she  knew  that  she  had  implanted  good  prin- 
ciples; and  she  felt  assured  that  they  would 
stand  the  tost.  She  sat  down  at  once,  and 
wrote  him  a  reply,  filled  with  the  quick,  and 
earnest  outgushings  of  a  mother's  love,  hopes, 
and  fears,  all  speaking  strongly  to  that  pure 
home  affection,  which  is  the  best  amulet  to  pre- 
serve a  young  heart,  or  to  call  it  back  from  its 
wanderings. 

But  Victor  had  to  pay  the  penalty  of  his  in- 
voluntary offence,  elsewhere  ;  and  a  heavy  one 
it  was  likely  to  be.  In  the  course  of  the  week 
following  the  Sabbath  above  referred  to,  Victor 
imagined  that  Mr.  Gray  treated  him  rather 
coolly  ;  and  one  morning,  instead  of  rising  as 


THE    MECHANIC.  Gl 

MSual  from  the  breakfast  table,  after  tbe  meal 
was  finished,  he  requested  the  family  to  remain 
seated  a  few  minutes,  as  he  had  something  of 
importance  to  communicate.  Mr.  Gray  wns 
habitually  rather  taciturn  ;  but  when  he  did 

\k,  every  word  told.  And  as  he  made  this 
annunciation,  there  was  instantly  perfect  silence  ; 
but  when  his  eye  moved  slowly  round  the  table, 
and  rested  on  Victor,  the  latter  felt  that  glance 
as  a  rebuke,  though  he  could  not  guess  for  what ; 
and  his  color  went  and  came,  while  he  felt  a 
misgiving  —  a  sickness  of  the  heart  —  such  as 
he  had  never  known  before. 

He  did  not  appear  to  notice  this,  however, 
though.  ;H  Robert  and  Hankin  exchanged  glan- 

.  the  latter  could  hardly  resist  the  disposition 
to  chuckle,  audibly,  so  much  was  he  delighted 
to  perceive  that  his  rival  had  fallen  under  his 
father's  displeasure.  Tli  -ion  was  no- 

ticed by  Mr.  (iray  :  and  in  perfect  contempt  of 
the  meanness  of  which  he  suspected  his  son,  he 
said,  sternly.  "  Leave  the  table,  sir  ;  and  leave 
the  room."  The  ho\  instantly  withdrew  ;  for 
when  his  father  did  -peak,  he  felt  him-elf  com- 
pelled to  obey.  As  tbe  door  shut,  Victor  be- 
came pale  as  ashes  :  for  he  thought  there  must 
be  something  dreadful  ;  and  lie  felt  an  instinct- 
ive apprehension  that  it  was  to  fall  on  him. 
G 


62  THE     MECHANIC. 

But  he  was  relieved,  for  a  moment,  by  the  at- 
tention being  directed  to  Miss>£ray. 

"  Ednah, "  said  her  father,  "  I  find  the 
respectability  of  my  family  is  called  in  ques- 
tion," 

"  How  so  ? "  returned  the  young  lady  qui- 
etly, " 

"  It  has  been  told  to  me,  no  less  than  four 
times  this  very  day,  and  many  times  more  in 
the  course  of  the  week,  that  I  neglect  a  father's 
duty,  in  allowing  my  daughter  to  walk  the 
streets,  and  associate,  upon  terms  of  intimacy, 
with  a  person  who  is  in  the  habit  of  attending 
Infidel  meetings  ;  "  and  his  eyes  once  more 
rested  on  Victor,  whose  face  was  flushed,  and 
then  became  pale  again  ;  while  Rankin,  discon- 
certed at  the  premature  development  of  his  plot, 
sat  very  uneasily. 

"  I  find  I  need  not  accuse  you  directly,  sir, 
in  so  many  words  ; "  he  added,  addressing  Vic- 
tor. "  Your  countenance  condemns  you.  " 

"  Women  have  a  much  more  direct  way  of 
arriving  at  truth,  in  some  cases,  than  mem 
Their  perceptions  are  generally  more  acute. " 
Miss  Gray  cast  a  rapid  glance  from  Rankin  to 
Victor,  and  that  glance  detected  the  real  state 
of  things. 

"  Victor,  "  she  said,  encouragingly,  "  speak 


THE     MECHANIC.  63 

out.  Let  us  hear  how  it  is.  "  And  a  kind 
look  from  Mrs.  Gray,  with  whom,  also,  he  was 
a  particular  favorite,  likewise  emholdened  him. 

"  I  went  once  to  hear  Mr. lecture  "  —  he 

said,  for  the  first  time  raising  his  eyes.  They 
encountered  those  of  Rankin  :  and  he  knew  by 
the  terrible  expression  he  met,  that  it  would  be 
dangerous  to  betray  him.  This  also  was  ob- 
served, even  by  Mr.  (iray. 

"  Speak  out,  sir ! "  In-  said.  "  I  will  have  no 
shuffling  —  no  equivocation  —  tell  us  how  many 
times  you  havr  been  —  \\lio  you  went  with — 
and  how  you  came  to  go.  " 

"  Of  course  I  shall  tell  you  the  truth,  sir  ;  :* 
returned  Victor.  "1  have  hem  once — and 
only  once — and  that  was  last  Sunday  after- 
noon. Mr.  Rankin  'united  me  to  go  with  him, 
to  hear  a  eel  Pirated  preacher,  but  refused  to 
tell  me  liis  name  ;  then  he  took  me  to  hear  Mr. 

I   never   went   before.      I  do  not  wish  to 

go  again.  But  I  am  very  sorry,  sir,  that  I  have 
been  the  means  of  bringing  reproach  on  any  of 
your  family,  especially  on  Mks  Gray,  who  has 
been  so  very,  very  kind  to  me."  His  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  ;ind  he  choked. 

"  I  am  sorry,  too,  Victor;"  replied  Mr.  Gray, 
"  I  regret,  exceedingly,  that  any  imputation  of 


04  THE     MECHANIC. 

the  kind  should  have  been  fixed  on  my  daugh- 
ter, or  on  you.  But,  as  I  find  you  are  not  to 
blame,  I  mean  to  deal  justly  by  you.  Should 
you  discontinue  attending  the  girls  to  the  Lec- 
tures your  character  will  suffer,  which  I  cannot 
«  allow  ;  so  you  will  consider  yourself  still  a  par- 
ticipator in  the  family  ticket.  If  you  are  more 
prudent  in  future,  the  truth  will  soon  work  its 
way  out,  and  be  established.  Continue  to 
speak  the  truth  —  and  be  very  careful  what 
company  you  keep  ;  "  he  added,  while  Victor, 
almost  overpowered  with  gratitude,  was  at- 
tempting to  express  his  thanks.  Mr.  Gray 
turned  to  rebuke  Rankin  ;  but  he  had  left  the 
room. 

As  her  father  rose  from  the  table  little  Annio 
ran  forward  to  congratulate  Victor.  "  O,  I  am 
so  glad  you  are  not  naughty ! "  she  said,  throw- 

_I  her  fair  round  arms  about  his  neck  ;  while 
a  few  bright  tears  fell  on  her  sunshiny  hair.  "  I 
am  so  glad  !  O,  it  makes  me  cry,  Victor !  and 
is'nt  it  funny  ?  "  and  the  sweet  little  creature 
hid  her  face  in  his  bosom,  and  really  sobbed  ; 
while  her  mother  and  sister  shared  her  joy. 

Mr.  Gray  regarded  the  group  with  a  pleased 
eye.  "  You  see,  Victor,  how  we  all  love 
you ; "  he  said,  "  I  know  not  how  it  is ;  but, 


THE     MECHANIC.  65 

from  the  first,  we  adopted  you  as  one  of  us  ; 
and  you  will  not,  my  dear  boy,  be,  at  any  time, 
forgetful  of  our  love." 

Victor  could  not  have  spoken  if  the  wealth 
of  the  world  had  been  offered  for  the  act  ;  but, 
hastily  wiping  his  face,  he  took  his  hat  and 
went  to  his  work.  The  plot  of  Rankin  was  an 
exceedingly  shallow  one ;  and  it  was  now  likely 
to  recoil  upon  the  head  of  the  projector.  He 
had  busily  circulated  the  report  of  Victor's  at- 
tendance at  Infidel  meeiings,  with  divers  little 
aggravating  touches,  among  a  score  of  good 
gossips,  who  are  so  very  charitable  as  to  neglect 
their  own  busim^s,  and  attend  to  that  of  other 
people  ;  but,  somehow,  he  never  anticipated 
such  a  dcnocumcnt  as  actually  took  place. 
Victor  was  more  firmly  established  than  ever  in 
the  good  opinion  of  the  family  ;  while  Rankin. 
to  his  utter  mortification,  saw  that  himself  rflW 
taken  the  place  he  had  intended  for  his  victim  ; 
and  that  even  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Gray  were  about 
being  opened  upon  his  real  character. 

A  word  now  of  the  part  which  Mr.  Gray 
had  taken  in  thi-;  matter.  I  have  said  before, 
that  he  had  not  a  strong  developement  of  the 
RELIGIOUS  PRINCIPLE.  To  what  then,  was  his 
zeal  owing  ?  He  considered  that  any  deviation 
from  the  common  routine  of  religious  habits  waj 
6* 


66  THE     MECHANIC. 

disreputable  It  was  a  sheer  matter  of  policy 
with  him  ;  as  it  is  with  far  too  many.  How 
much  —  how  infinitely  better  —  is  any  discus- 
sion, than  such  a  breathless,  waveless,  motion- 
less, Dead  sea  of  mind  !  Yet  that  very  state, 
inane  as  it  is,  may  be  a  very  decorous  and 
respectable  one ;  for  the  world  will  reward  with 
her  loudest  sounding  praises  those  (would  they 
were  few  !)  who  are  willing  to  lay  the  Individual 
ME  upon  the  altar  of  HUMAN  PRAISE  ;  and  take 
instead,  something,  it  may  be  in  the  shape  of 
ME,  but  without  vitality  —  an  automaton,  form- 
ed, and  still  to  be  moulded,  by  the  opinions  of 
others  —  until  it  becomes  incapable  of  having  — 
much  more  of  asserting  —  a  principle  of  its  own. 
Some  minds  of  a  very  high  order  are  precisely  in 
this  state  ;  and,  being  there,  they  know  it  not. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

"How  beautiful  on  llicir  approach  to  this  beating  heart 
the  steps  and  forms  of  tliu  gifted  and  the  true.  " 

"  A  new    person   is  always  to  me  a  great  event  and 
hinders  me  from  sleep.  " 

EMERSO.V. 

A  few  days  after  the  above  incident,  Mrs. 
Gray  announced  to  her  family,  at  the  breakfast 
table,  that  Bridget  was  very  ill ;  and,  she  feared 
she  was  already  in  a  confirmed  fever. 

"  What  will  you  do  with  her  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Gray.  "  You  may  not  be  able  to  get  another 
woman  for  some  weeks ;  and  you  surely 
not  think  of  taking  care  of  her  in  addition  to 
your  work  : '' 

"  O,  as  to  that,"  replied  Mrs.  Gray,  "  Ed- 
nah  and  I  have  settled  it  all  nicely.  Bridget 
has  a  cousin  in  town,  who  now  is  out  of  a 
place.  We  will  send  for  her  to  act  as  nurse. 
A  friend  is  such  a  blessing  in  sickness  !  And 
Bridget  has  no  other  in  the  country  besi. 
Ellen  —  at  least  no  relative  but  her.  I  think  I 
can  get  along  very  well.  It  will  be  a  good 
chance  for  Annie.  I  have  been  thinking  of  it 


68  THE    MECHAfJIC. 

for  some  time.  Ednah,  at  her  age,  knew  a 
great  deal  of  the  mystery  of  house-keeping. 
Annie  can  wipe,  or  even  wash  dishes,  and  dust 
rery  well.  Ednah  loves  exercise,  and  needs  it. 
She  will  help  a  good  deal  night  and  morning  — 
and  Victor" — she  hesitated  a  moment,  as  she 
looked  at  the  handsome  and  intelligent  young 
man  —  "Victor  will  not  think  himself  de- 
graded, if  I  ask  him  to  clean  the  brasses,  rub 
the  knives,  or  fetch  an  extra  pail  of  water 
occasionally. " 

"  My  duty  can  never  degrade  me  ;  he  replied 
warmly  ;  "  and  this  is  more  than  duty.  It  is  a 
pleasure.  Any  service  I  can  render  to  you, 
Mrs.  Gray,  or  any  of  your  family,  will  make 
me  happy. " 

"  Robert  and  Rankin  exchanged  glances,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  What  a  low  fellow  ;  or  what 
a  fool  he  is  !  " 

The  plan  of  Mrs.  Gray  succeeded  admirably. 
Instead  of  sending  the  poor  friendless  Irish  girl 
among  strangers,  or  to  the  poor  house,  she 
waited  on  her,  or  caused  her  to  be  attended, 
with  untiring  benevolence.  This,  to  be  sure, 
was  only  duty  ;  yet  it  was  a  duty  many  would 
be  incapable,  either  of  perceiving  or  practising. 
On  Friday,  which  was  Mrs.  Gray's  scouring 
day,  Victor,  girded  with  one  of  Bridget's  crash 


THE    MECHANIC.  69 

aprons,  entered  into  the  midst  of  oil,  rotten 
stone,  and  whiting,  tin  and  brass  ware. 

"  Scratch  'em  !  "  whispered  Rankin,  in  pass- 
ing Victor,  who  had  succeeded  in  giving  a 
very  fine  polish  to  a  beautiful  planished  tin 
dish-cover.  "  A  few  incidental,  or  acciden- 
tal scratches  would  end  your  labors  shortly. 
Here,  let  me  show  you  ; "  and  he  threw  a  few 
grains  of  coarse  sand  upon  the  polishing  cloth. 

"  You  are  a  fool,  to  make  yourself  a 
scullion  !  "  he  added,  as  Victor,  without  deign- 
ing any  reply,  calmly  wiped  the  sand  away/' 
"  If  you  go  on  at  this  rate  you  never  will  be 
any  thinj: ;  I  shall  give  you  up  !  " 

"  He  was  interrupted  ;  and  Victor  was 
relieved  for  the  time.  That  morning,  as  the 
latter  was  going  to  his  work,  Kankin  hailed 
him  from  a  corner,  telling  him  there  was  no 
work  just  then  ;  and  they  might  have  an  hour 
or  two  of  leisure.  He  had  gathered  a  number 
of  companions  about  him  :  and  he  began  to 
banter  Victor  in  a  very  coarse  way,  about 
a  scullion,  a  cleaner  of  kettles  and  pans, 
and  the  like. 

"Mr.  Hyde,"  continued  Rankin,  with  ex- 
treme acrimony  of  manner,  "  my  friends  and  I 
have  been  considering  the  propriety  of  tbe  term 
MASTER,  being  given  to  him  who  instructs  young 


70  THE    MECHANIC. 

men  in  any  business.  The  opinion  of  a  person 
of  such  singular  dignity  and  elevation  of  char- 
acter, must  be  worth  having.  You  will  please 
to  enlighten  us. " 

Victor's  bosom  glowed  intensely ;  and  the 
warmth  was  reflected  on  his  flushed  face.  He 
bit  his  lips.  He  felt  too  much  contempt  for 
words.  He  did  not  speak. 

"  Get  out  Rankin  !  "  "Hold  on  there  !  " 
"  You  are  too  bad.  "  "  Come,  Mr.  Hyde,  we 
really  want  your  opinion,  "  exclaimed  one  and 
another. 

Victor  swallowed  his  resentment,  and  replied, 
"  I  see  no  reason  why  the  man  who  teaches 
any  art,  should  not  be  called  master,  as  well  as 
he  that  teaches  any  science. " 

"  There,  I  thought  so  !  "  retorted  Rankin  ; 
"  servile  in  every  thing  !  I  tell  you  he  is  inca» 
pable  of  taking  in  a  noble  thought.  Go  to  the 
South  !  the  whip  of  the  negro-driver  might 
make  you  feel  !  Go  to  the  South  ;  and  there 
you  might  really  have  a  master!  " 

"  I  see  no  reason  for  this  anger  ; "  returned 
Victor,  mildly,  for  he  had  recovered  his  self- 
possession.  "  I  only  expressed  an  opinion,  in 
compliance  with  the  request  of  those  present. " 

"  But  it  makes  me  mad  to  see  such  meant- 
ness  !  "  continued  Rankin, 


THE     MECHANIC.  71 

"  Hold  on  there,  Rankin,  and  let  us  havo 
Hyde's  opinion  ! ?'  said  one  of  the  young  men. 

"  I  am  unwilling  to  make  any  difficulty  : '' 
replied  Victor ;  "  but  as  you  really  wish  me  to 
speak,  I  will  do  so.  I  cannot,  then,  see  any 
thing  degrading  to  myself,  in  calling  the  man 
who  teadii-s  me  his  art.  master.  I  do  not  see 
how  a  m<  iv  name,  used  one  way  or  another, 
can  disgrace  u-.  It  seems  to  me  that  honor,  or 
dishonor,  must  flow  entirely  from  our  own 
actions.  " 

"  A  noble  sentiment,  my  brave  lad  !  "  ex- 
claimed a  \  and  benevolent  looking 
old  man,  \\ith  l-m::  white  hair  sweeping  over 
who  had  joined  the  circle,  and 
was  listening  unobserved.  "  A  noble  senti- 
ment ! ''  he  continued  ;  "  and  here  is  the  hand 
of  one,  who  through  the  experience  of  three 
score  years  and  ten,  has  seen  no  honor  but  that 
of  pure  r'mht,  no  dishonor  but  that  of  wrong, 
your  name  ;  I  want  to  K:io\v 
you  ; "  added  the  old  man,  as  he  pressed  the 
hand  of  Victor  in  his. 

'•  You  honor  me,  indeed,  sir  ! ''  replied  Vic- 
tor, blushing  with  pleasure,  at  the  old  man's 
kindness;  "  my  name  is  Victor  Hyde;  and  I 
am  apprentice  to  Mr.  Gray,  carpenter,  


72  THE    MECHANIC. 

"  Ay,  William  Gray  ?  He  is  my  son-in-law. 
I  congratulate  him  !  and  I  congratulate  you, 
my  boy  !  Few  apprentices  have  a  place  like 
that !  Tell  Mrs.  Gray  that  she  may  expect 
her  father  this  evening.  I  have  been  absent 
(as  you  have  undoubtedly  heard  grandfather 
Filbrook  was)  about  two  years,  with  a  daugh- 
ter at  the  West.  I  may  possibly  bring  Harri- 
son with  me  ;  and  I  hope  to  meet  Talbot,  for  I 
hear  he  is  expected^  in  town  to-day.  And  be 
sure  YOU  be  at  home,  my  boy, "  he  added, 
again  presenting  his  hand. 

"  I  shall  not  fail  to  be  so  ;  "  returned  Victor, 
his  eyes  actually  dancing  with  pleasure. 

"  You've  hit  it  now  !  "  said  one  of  the 
young  men  :  "  John  Filbrook  has  a  mint  of 
money  :  and  as  much  influence  as  any  man.  " 

"  He  is  always  crawling  after  great  folks  !  " 
said  Rankin,  bitterly. 

At  this  moment  the  young  men  were  sum- 
moned to  the  post  of  duty ;  and  the  conversa- 
tion was  suspended. 

The  evening  came,  and  with  it  came  father 
and  grandfather.  The  meeting  was  a  happy 
one,  as  there  always  will  be  between  those  who 
stand  in  just  relationship  towards  themselves, 
and  each  other.  Victor  was  met  by  the  kind 
old  gentleman  with  renewed  expressions  of  in* 


1-HE    MECHANIC.  "73 

lerest  and  kindness.  That  night  the  happy 
boy,  excited  by  the  curious  circumstances  o'f 
his  introduction  to  .Mr.  Filbrook,  as  also  by  the 
hope  of  meeting  Mr.  Harrison,  whom  he  had 
heard  lecture,  could  in  no  wise  think  of  sleep- 
ing ;  and  he  lay  tossing  from  side  to  side,  until 
nearly  morning,  in  all  the  delightful  irritability 
of  a  highly  nervous  temperament,  warmed  and 
expanded  by  a  single  predominating,  and  a  host 
of  subservient  ideas  —  yet  all  pleasant  —  all 
delightful.  I  should  have  said  that  Mr.  Fil- 
brook did  not  bring  Mr.  Harrison  with  him,  but 
he  promised  that  he  should  come  the  next  day. 
Accordingly,  at  an  early  hour  the  latter  gentle- 
man arrived,  and  was  duly  introduced  by  1m 
venerable  friend  ;  which,  indeed,  was  hardly 
necessary  :  for  he  was  well  known  as  one  of 
the  most  popular  lecturers  in  the  employ  of 
a  philanthropic  association  ;  and  also  as  editor 
of  a  very  able  paper,  devoted  to  their  inter- 
ests. Mr.  Harrison  was  a  self-made  man,  and 
about  forty  years  of  a-_:e.  He  had  a  singularly 
fine  head,  which  indicated  a  full  developemeut 
of  TIII.  >i\\ — not  the  physical,  merely;  nor 
yet  the  intellectual  ;  but  the  full  and  harmoni- 
ous proportions  of  physical,  mental  and  moral 
power.  His  eye  was  dark  and  expressive ;  and 
Ms  whole  manner  evinced  an  exceedingly  strong 
7 


t4  THE    MECHANIC. 

and  active  temperament.  Mr.  Talbot,  the  lover 
of  Ednah  Gray,  was  also  present.  He  exhibit- 
ed a  full  command  of  the  reasoning  powers, 
with  little  imagination,  or  little  more  than  went 
to  give  pungency  to  sarcasm  —  which,  however, 
he  used  only  as  a  weapon,  that  was  not  drawn 
upon  light  occasions ;  though  incidental  fla- 
indicated  its  locality.  As  a  young  lawyer,  he 
had  already  obtained  considerable  reputation  ; 
and  he  gave  great  promise.  He  was  said  to 
belong  to  one  of  the  highest  families  in  tli- 
country;  this  last  fact  however  was  one  which 
he  was  far  from  asserting,  either  directly,  or 
indirectly ;  and  it  modified  his  own  character 
and  feelings  much  less  than  those  of  others. 
He  had  too  much  innate  nobility  —  too  much 
real  self-respect,  to  claim  any  distinction  on  the 
credit  of  his  fathers.  He  demanded  nothing 
for  the  mouldering  eulogy  that  was  sculptured 
over  his  mouldering  ancestors.  Content  him- 
self and  proud  to  be  a  man,  he  conceived  that 
the  character  of  man,  wherever  it  is  truly  and 
honestly  developed,  is  worthy  to  be  met  by  the 
name  of  brother  ;  though  peradventure  it  may 
possibly  exist,  shrouded  in  the  bosom  of  a  bond 
or  chattel  slave.  How  weak  —  how  passing 
vain  to  such  a  one  must  be  the  poor  distinctions 
which  are  founded  on  any  thing  extrinsic  to  the 
man. 


THK     .MECHANIC.  75 

Mr.  FQbrook  had  been  a  very  successful 
machinist,  who  had  grown  -with  the  growth, 
and  strengthened  with  the  strength,  of  one  of 
our  flourishing  manufacturing  towns.  He  had 
accumulated  wealth  \\ithout  compromising  every 
thing  true  and  honest ;  for  he  sought  wealth 
not  as  an  end,  hut  as  a  means.  In  rising  to  the 
highest  rank  in  society  as  many  such  have  done, 
he  did  not  as  too  many  do  forget  his  less  fortu- 
nate hrethren  whom  he  had  left  in  the  rear;  but 
while  he  enjoyed,  with  the  highest  zest,  the 
society  of  the  refined  and  intellectual,  his  heart 
glowed  with  the  pmest  philanthropy  —  the 
leniiei-e-!  love — 'towards  all  men;  and  he 
watched  tin-  progressive  steps  of  reform  tending 
to  meliorate  the  condition  and  elevate  the  mass 
of  men.  with  a  pleased  and  interested  < 

:ce  the  friendship  between  him  and  .Mr. 
Harri  on — and  I  may  add,  hetwccn  him  and 
all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  of  the  good 
and  the  true.  Ik-  was  now  in  a  green  and 
happy  old  ng",  enjoying  the  fruits  of  honest 
and  d  industry  —  most  in  the  power  of 

bles-in::   others.      He    \\as    the    father   of    Mr-. 
y,  and  in   Lriv'mu;  his  youngest  daughter  to  a 
•ijanic  when  he   was  amply  entitled  to   look 
higher  :    for  he  had  married  four  other  daughters 
into  the  highest  classes  —  he   was  carrying  out 


"76  THE    MECHANIC, 

his  principles.  Here  then  was  represented1  in 
one  little  family  party  live  aristocracy  of  mindr 
the  aristocracy  of  wealth,  and  the  aristocracy  of 
blood  ;  and  these  were  all  met  in  the  house  of 
a  carpenter,  confessedly  one  of  the  lower  orders  ; 
and  not  only  so  but  two  of  these  were  either 
allied  to  him,  or  about  to  be  allied  to  him,  by 
the  closest  family  ties.  Is  this  fact  a  singular 
one  ?  I  trust  next  altogether  so.  But  when- 
man  comes  better  to  be  known,  and  TO  KNOW 
HIMSELF,  such  occwrences  will  be  more  and 
more  frequent ;  until  the  question  shall  no  more 
be  asked  —  what  a  man  does  —  but  what  he 
IS  —  and  the  ticket  of  admission  to  society 
shall  not  be  graven  with  his  profession,  but 
with  his  CHARACTER.  But  were  not  all  these 
MEN  ?  Did  they  not  meet  each  other  AS  MEN  ? 
or  was  their  behavior  modified  ;  or  would  it 
have  been,  at  any  time,  or  any  place,  modified 
by  the  profession  of  any  whom  they  might 
meet  ?  Would  the  grasp  of  their  hands  be 
graduated  according  to  the  roughness  or  deli- 
eacy  of  the  palms  they  met  ?  The  true  soul 
takes  no  cognizance  of  such  things.  She  asks 
not  if  the  hand  of  a  man  has  beee  calloused 
by  the  implements  of  manual  labor.  She  looks 
for  CHARACTER,  and  speaks  to  that.  She  looks 
for  SOUL  ;  and,  finding  that  she  finds  brotherhood* 


THE    MECHANIC.  "77 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Gray  had  received  and 
spoken  with  the  gentlemen  he  called  to  Victor, 
by  request  of  Mr  Filbrook,  and  introduced  him. 
How  the  heart  of  young  genius  leaps  within 
itself,  at  the  first  presence  of  a  kindred  spirit. 
A  kindred  spirit  to  such  a  one  is  a  magician  ; 
and  when  he  first  breaks  the  seal  from  the 
young  thought,  that  did  not  till  then  know 
itself,  lighting  the  depths  of  the  bosom  as  with 
Aladdin's  lamp  revealing  mysteries  hitherto 
undreamed  of,  all  nature  seems  created  anew, 
in  more  delicate  beauty,  in  loftier  majesty,  with 
intenser  glory.  Truths  before  unperceived  speak 
in  the  face  of  all  things  ;  as  if  God  had  then 
first  said,  "  Let  there  be  light. "  Such  was 
the  meeting  between  Mr.  Harrison  and  Victor 
—  such  their  correlative  action  upon  each 
other.  Were  it  not  that  the  full  grown  soul 
stood  partially  unveiled  before  him,  the  poor 
boy  would  have  been  overwhelmed  when  he 
first  perceived,  and  felt,  and  knew  the  godlike 
energy  that  was  shrined  within  his  own  bosom. 

"  You  will  stay  at  home  to-day,  Victor,  " 
said  Mr.  Gray,  kindly.  "  Our  work  is  not 
driving  ;  and  1  feel  anxious  that  you  should  see 
and  know  these  friends.  " 

"  I  thank  you,  sir !  "  returned  the  delighted 
boy,  with  the  most  earnest  emphasis ;  and  his 
7* 


78  THE    MECHANIC. 

whole  soul  flashed  at  once  through  his  animated 
features,  and  eloquent  eyes.  There  was  a 
beauty,  a  dignity,  a  majesty  in  that  poor  ap- 
prentice boy  as  he  stood  there  in  his  newly 
awakened  consciousness  of  being,  with  which 
the  wealth  of  all  mines,  the  insignia  of  all 
hereditary  honors  —  the  pomp  of  all  thrones  — 
could  not  have  invested  him  —  it  was  the 
beauty,  the  dignity,  the  majesty,  of  a  highly 
gifted  human  soul,  true  to  its  fellow  creatures 
—  true  lo  itself;  and  then  first  perceiving  its 
alliance  with  Deity  —  its  heirship  to  Jeho- 
vah. What  man  having  a  soul  himself — and 
what  man  has  not? — could  think  of  a  com- 
mission, an  office,  a  staff,  a  star,  a  garter,  a 
coronet,  a  crown,  in  the  presence  of  such  a 
one  ?  Yet  thousands  of  such  are  unrecognised, 
even  by  themselves.  Still  the  day  is  coming 
when  man  will  not  only  know  his  brother,  but 
he  shall  know  himself;  and  it  rests  with  those 
who  have  already  made  acquaintance  with  the 
human  character,  to  hasten  that  day.  Then, 
and  not  till  then,  will  be  the  true  millennium ; 
for  then,  indeed,  will  "  THE  DAY-SPRING  FROM 
ON  HIGH  "  have  visited  us  1 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

"  An  ideal  of  right  docs  dwell  in  all  men,  in  all  arrange- 
ments, pactions  and  procedures  of  men  it  is  to  this  ideal 
of  right,  more  and  more  approximated  to,  that  human 
society  for  ever  U-ntU  and  struggles.  " 

CHARTISM. 

"  Now  Annie  expects  grandfather  will  give 
her  a  sugar-plum,"  said  the  happy  old  man, 
drawing  the  beautiful  child  to  his  knee. 

••  .No,  I  do  not ;"  she  replied,  shaking  back 
the  flaxen  curls,  and  looking  up  cunningly  in 
his  face  —  -'not  such  sugar-plums  as  monkeys 
love  —  but  —  "  and  >lie  squinted  curiously  at 
the  hand  which  was  slowly  drawn  from  hi< 
pocket. 

••  I  la!  this  is  the  sugar-plum  for  you,  my 
little  darling  ! ''  continued  tin;  grandfather,  put- 
ting into  her  hand  a  fre-h  number  of  '•  The 
Girl's  Own  Book"  — "Go,  and  feast,  little 
one  !  for  these  sweets  are  the  product  of  a  free 
soul ;  they  are  not  embittered  and  poisoned  by 
the  sweat,  and  tears,  and  blood  of  the  crushed 
and  miserable  slave."  Imprinting  a  warm  kiss 
on  his  venerable  cheek  the  child  sprang  from 


80  THE    MECHANIC. 

his  arms,  and  ran  to  show  all  her  friends  her 
new  treasure. 

"  Only  look,  sister  !  "  she  cried,  "  "  do  see, 
Mr.  Talbot!  'The  Girl's  Own  Book!'  the 
very  book  I  wanted  !  O,  how  much  better  I 
love  dear,  dear  grandfather  than  if  he  had 
bought  me  sugar-plums  and  candy  !  "  and 
the  gratified  and  affectionate  child  ran  back 
to  her  aged  relative  ;  and  as  she  clung  round 
his  neck,  with  renewed  kisses,  the  two  formed 
a  singularly  striking  and  beautiful  group.  The 
child's  face  was  like  a  very  cherub's,  full  of 
gentleness,  sweetness,  and  of  almost  unearthly 
beauty  ;  and  it  contrasted  finely  with  the  truly 
noble  and  venerable  one  it  met ;  while  curls  of 
the  richest  amber,  and  long  locks  of  glossy 
silver,  mingled  in  not  unpleasing  contrast. 
There  are  two  characters  of  surpassing  interest 
and  beauty,  that  of  a  noble-minded,  benevo- 
lent, good  man,  in  ripe  old  age,  and  that  of  a 
child  in  the  first  pure  and  hallowed  day-spring 
of  its  being  —  these  two  are  as  the  evening 
and  the  morning  star  of  human  life  ;  and  they 
both  shine  with  the  clearest  and  the  brightest 
evidence  of  the  dignity  —  the  divinity  of  hu- 
man nature. 

"  Ednah  dear,  "  said  Mr.  Fil brook,  as  Annie 
again  withdrew,  "  I  have  not  forgotten  you  in 


THF.    MECHANIC.  81 

my  travels.  It  was  my  good  fortune  to  fall  in 
with  a  young  naturalist  —  a  very  intelligent  and 
interesting  young  man,  by  the  way,  with  whom 
I  kept  company  for  several  weeks.  It  was  in 
my  power  to  ohlige  him.  and  in  return,  he  has 
sent  you  some  specimens  both  in  Botany  and 
Mineralogy.  " 

"  He  sent  them  to  me,  grandfather  ':  ''  said 
Ednah,  blushing. 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure  where's  the  harm  ':  I'm  a 
weak  old  man  it  may  be.  but  I  could  not  help 
talking  of  you,  and  praising  you,  Ednah.  Why 
do  you  blush  so,  you  little  handsome  intelligent 
gypsey  ?  I  believe  one  word  from  me  would 
have  brought  the  poor  fellow  on  here  ;  but  no 
harm,  -Mr.  Talbot.  I  mentioned  your  name.  " 

Ednah  found  relief  from  II«T  slight  confu- 
sion, in  opening  the  portfolios;  \\hen  >he  was 
joined  by  Victor,  who  knew  and  understood 
the  value  of  the  specimens  better  than  any  one 
present,  except  herself. 

,  "  O,  Victor!"  cried  the  latter,  opening  a 
sheet  that  was  folded  with  peculiar  care  — 
"here  is  the  Ceanothus  Ovalis  —  and  from  the 
borders  of  Lake  Champlain  too  !  the  very  spot 
\\  here  Pursh  found  it !  I  am  rich  indeed  !  " 

"  Here, "  said  Mr.  Filbrook,  "  is  something 
that  pleases  me  infinitely  more  than  that  or  any 


82  THE    MECHANIC. 

other  weed.  Here  are  some  specimens  of 
petrified  sea-shells,  which  I  found  myself  on  an 
eminence  on  the  borders  of  the  Susquehannah, 
1200  feet  above  the  level  of  the  ocean.  In 
some  places  the  ground  was  almost  covered 
with  them.  This,  I  think  proves  conclusively, 
either  that  there  has  been  a  period  when  the 
waters  of  the  ocean  rose  to  that  height,  or  else, 
that  the  locality  of  the  sea  is  entirely  changed. 
But  how  did  you  like  our  lecture  last  evening, 
Mr.  Harrison  ?  He  bore  down  pretty  hard  upon 
the  aristocracy  —  did  he  not  ?  " 

"  He  did,  indeed,  Mr.  Filbrook.  But  I  have 
just  been  thinking,  that  with  all  our  talk  about 
aristocracy,  we  do  not  know  exactly  what  we 
mean  by  the  expression.  It  seems  to  me  that 
the  fabled  hues  of  the  chamelion  vary  not  more 
than  the  definitions  of  that  term. " 

"  Rank,  like  beauty,  is,  with  us,  a  word  of 
indefinite  and  arbitrary  meaning,  which  every 
one  feels  at  liberty  to  interpret  for  himself,  " 
said  Mr.  Talbot.  "  We  have  a  monied  aris- 
tocracy —  an  aristocracy  of  fashion  —  an  aris- 
tocracy of  talent  —  and  an  aristocracy  which 
pretends  to  establish  itself  on  the  basis  of  gentle 
and  ancient  blood  ;  but,  for  want  of  support, 
this  last  is  fain  to  lean  upon  wealth  at  the  one 
hand,  or  talent  on  the  other.  But,  to  borrow 


THE    MECHANIC. 

one  of  your  figures,  Mr.  Gray,  the  underpinning 
is  giving  out.  You  may  patch  it,  and  prop  it, 
as  you  will  ;  but  it  is  rotten.  It  will  not 
stand." 

••  IJiit,  "  said  Mr.  Harrison,  '•'  in  all  these 
enquiries  which  now  agitate  and  shake  society 
to  it-  inmost  centre,  the  observing  eye  can  per- 
ceive the  kindling  fire  of  truth,  acting  upon 
all  these  discordant  elements.  Truth,  like  th-- 
electric  fluid,  when  once  aroused  can  no  more 
be  held  in  check  —  can  no  longer  be  hidden, 
but.  in  its  own  resistless  energy  —  its  own  over- 
whelming power  —  it  announces  itself  to  an 
astonished  world  —  it  maybe  with  waste  and 
ruin  ;  yet  none  'he  less  surely  comes  the  < 
izing  power,  and  the  destruction  of  what  is 
noxious  in  the  moral  atrno^p' 

"  Our  lich  people,"  continued  Mr.  Harrison. 
after  a  momentary  pause.  "  an-,  for  the  mo-i 
part,  those  who  have  sacrificed  every  other  \ai- 
cuble  thing  at  the  altar  of  mammon.  Lik 
very  iii'mnx.  they  liav  bent  their  brows  into 
the  earth  and  toiled  for  gold,  to  the  peri!  of 
ease,  health,  conscience,  intellect,  soul.  Tln-\ 
would  be  rich.  They  place  their  aim  at  that 
point  —  and  seldom  rise  higher.  Can  such  a 
any  more  than  the  heartless  inanity  of 
fashionable  life,  be  favorable  to  the  develope- 


84  THE     MECHANIC. 

merit  of  the  true  man  ?  I  need  not  answer. 
But  the  mentally  gifted  may  be  seen  rising 
above  the  mass  in  every  grade  of  society  ;  yet 
chiefly  among  the  middling  and  lower  classes ; 
for  the  very  struggles  into  which  poverty  com- 
pels them  —  the  very  warfare  with  contend- 
ing fates  —  are  a  healthy  discipline,  which 
gives  tone,  and  energy,  and  manliness  to  the 
character.  The  tallest  and  the  strongest  trees 
are  they  that  have  wrestled  with  the  tempest  — 
that  stand  on  the  bleak  mountain  side,  and 
arrest  the  storms  of  heaven.  Gifted  spirits  will 
rise  above  their  peers,  as  truly  —  as  necessa- 
rily —  as  the  gigantic  oak,  and  the  towering 
sycamore,  will  stretch  out  their  strong  arms, 
and  lift  themselves  up  above  their  meaner 
brethren  of  the  forest.  The  gladiator  is  not 
nurtured  in  the  arms  of  luxury  ;  his  sinews  are 
not  strengthened,  nor  his  muscles  knit,  beneath 
the  influence  of  the  soft  lute,  or  the  delicious 
viol  ;  he  reposes  not  on  down  ;  he  eats  no  deli- 
cate viand.  The  roar  of  the  Nubian  lion  — 
the  growl  of  the  Bengal  tiger,  are  the  music 
that  he  loves  ;  his  bed  is  the  bare  flint ;  his 
food  the  coarsest  product  of  the  earth ;  and 
early,  and  continually,  meeting  defiance  from 
danger  and  death,  he  gathers  increasing,  and 
still  increasing  strength — -until  he  comes  to 


TITF.    Mi:rii\\ir. 

tliom  in  turn  —  until  he  sports  with  dan 
.-.  ith    a    toy,  and   beards   death    at   his   very 
threshold.      Even   such  must  be  the  education 
of  the  human   soul,  to  give  its  highest  stren 
—  its   noblest   po\ver.      And   \\  ho   are  -n  Iikely 
to  meet  with   this  discipline  as  the  poor  and  the 
:      It  has  been  truly  said  that 
for  dominion  ; '    but   T 

.  MOX     OF      .MINI)      IS      OVER     ITSKL.F. 

.  ..ml  per- 
uld  be  a  rare  of 

divinities  —  we   should    be  the   truest   and   the 

—  the  highest  repre- 
s  of  the  divine    \\i-dom —  direct   ema- 

;!iis  spe<  had  left   \,',< 

and  !ly  approaching  -Air.  Ffar- 

;ntil,  at  its  cl<  '1  by  the  imp' 

of  his  own  ardent  nature.  ;;nd  excited  far  above 
all    thought  of  propriety,  or  of  fear.   h< 
into  the  arm<  of  .Mr.    Harrison;  and,  burying 
in   the  speaker's   bo-om.  lie   burst   into 
tear-.       It   was   inexpre--ibly    affecting.      There 
was  not  one  dry  eye    looked   upon    the  group. 
No    comment    was    made  —  not    a    word    was 
Ken  :   but  all  present  felt  that  the  late  of  the 
lioy   was   then    determined  —  that 
there   was  a   spirit   rou-ed    \\ithin    him,   whose 
8 


86 

power  could  no  more  be  checked  nor  its  pres- 
ence be  hidden.  There  are  moments  in  human 
life,  which  destiny  marks  as  peculiarly  her 
own  ;  when  she  puts  the  seal  on  character,  by 
the  magic  of  some  trivial  circumstance,  a  look, 
a  tone,  rousing  a  dormant  principle,  which  is 
appointed  to  live,  and  expand,  and  dominate, 
until  it  shall  have  colored  every  future  period 
of  life. 

Conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  Mr.  Parkhursl,  an  acquaintance  of 
Mr.  Talbot's,  who  took  special  care,  however, 
to  let  it  be  known,  that  he  considered  the  me- 
chanic's house  was  all  too  highly  honored  by 
his  most  august  presence.  This  gentleman 
was  a  commission  merchant ;  and  in  his  char- 
acter and  feelings,  he  was  one  of  the  most 
exclusive  among  us  ',  but  of  him,  his  entrance, 
conversation,  &,c.,  we  will  tell  further  in  the 
next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  It  is  not  what  a  man  outwardly  his,  or  wants',  that 
constitutes  the  li:i|i|)iiif>ss  or  misery  of  man.  Nakedness, 
hunger,  distress  (if  all  kinds,  death  itself,  have  been 
cheerful  I  v  sullen-d,  when  the  heart  was  right.  It  is  the 
feeling  tif  injustice  that  is  insupportable  to  all  men.  No 
man  can  IXMT  it,  or  might  to  bear  it.  A  deeper  law 
than  any  part-hinrnt-law  whatever,  a  law  written  direct 
by  the  li.m.l  of  <m.l  in  the  inmost  being  of  man,  inces- 
santly protests  ag-iiiist  it.  " 


"  Yoi'R  servant,  Mr.  Tulbot  —  your  most 
obedient,  Mr.  Filbrook,  "  said  Mr.  Parklmrst, 
bowing  cordially  as  he  gave  his  hand,  alter- 
nately, to  the  only  two  in  the  room,  whom  ho 
considered  entitled  by  their  birth  and  mode  of 
Ihiir:.  to  his  notice  —  then,  bending  his  head 
in  a  very  stately  manner,  in  recognition  of  the 
jirex(-nce  of  others,  he  said,  •'  Come,  Mr.  Tul- 
bot, of  course  you  can  have  nothing  in  common 
with  tlir-c  good  people  ;  let  us  step  into  the 
Bfaiiborough,  and  have  a  little  social  chat." 

"  \  ou  arc  entirely  nii>t;ik.-n.  Mr.  1  \jrkhurst. 
I  have  all  things  in  common  with  these  friend-  ; 


88  THE    MECHANIC. 

for  these  are  true  and  noble  spirits,  with  whom 
it  is  not  only  my  choice,  but  my  highest  happi- 
ness, to  mingle.  We  were  just  engaged  in  a 
very  interesting  conversation,  which  I  may  have 
no  opportunity  to  resume.  Therefore  I  beg 
you  to  join  us  ;  and  first  let  me  introduce  you 
to  Mr.  Gray — the  honored  father  of  my  dear- 
est hope — and  Mr.  Harrison,  whom,  not  to 
know,  argues  yourself,  either  unknown — or 
out  of  the  way  of  much  good  influence. '"' 

"  Hem  !  your  most  obedient,  gentlemen  '. 
Gray,  how  are  the  prices  in  the  Lumber 
ket  ?      Do  shingles   and   clap-boards  ke 
yet  ?  "  inquired  the  visitor,  pompously. 

"  The  prices  are  fluctuating  at  present, 
returned  Mr.  Gray,  with  an  air  of  quiet  dignity, 
that  felt  no-wise  conscious  of  a  cut. 

"  Mr.  Harrison, "   continued   Mr.  Park 
"  I  believe  I  have  had  some  acquaintance  with 
you  before  —  Hem!     Educated  to  THE  i: 
I  believe  —  excuse  me,  sir,  if  I  am  mistaken  ; 
but  I  really  was  under  the  impression  that  you 
made  a  pair  of  boots  for  me  —  and  they  pinched 
be  devil"  ho  added,  dropping  his  voice  to 
a  lower  key^l 

':  Harrison  can  pinch  yet;  "  said  Mr.  Talbot, 
smiling  at  the  futile  effort  the  gentleman  \\as 
making  to  establish  his  own  dignity.  "  He  cara 


THE    MECHANIC.  89 

pinch  yet,  I  assure  you  ;  and  you  had  better 
take  care  of  his  nippers,  Parkhurst. " 

The  gentleman  only  bowed  in  reply  ;  then, 
turning  to  Mr.  Harrison,  he  said,  "  excuse  me, 
sir,  for  suggesting  so  unpleasant  a  topic  ;  but, 
really.  1  intended  no  offence. " 

"  And  you  gave  none,  Mr.  Parkhurst.     Be 

ured  sir,  I  am  not  ashamed  of  honest  labor. 
II'  who  is  so  —  is  an  excresence  on  the  fair 
character  of  manhood  — he  is  no  true  man.  " 

••  Hem!  of  course  it  becomes  you  to  speak 
svell  of  the  bridge  that  carried  you  safe  over ; 
as  the  old  proverb  says  —  you  have  risen  above 
your  old  business — your  present  profession  is 
—  is  —  quite  —  a  gentlemanly  one  —  and  I  see 
no  reason  why  we  may  not  be  acquaintances. " 

The  bronzed  cheek  of  Harrison  flushed  slight- 
ly, with  the  impulse  of  pun;  honest  contempt  of 
the  insinuation,  as  he  replied  ;  "  You  mistake, 
Mr.  Parkhurst,  1  have  never  relinquished  my 
early  business.  It  is  an  honest  calling.  It  is 
favorable  to  thought  —  and  I  love  it.  Still, 
during  all  the  intervals  of  more  active  duties,  I 
xvork  at  my  trade.  1  was  bred  a  shoemaker,  I 
;im  still  a  shoemaker,  Mr.  Parkhurst  —  but  I 
am  also  a  man,  " 

••  \  <-ry  likely  —  not  the  least  doubt  of  it  — - 
so  is  yonder  sweep  —  yet  what  gentleman  thinks 
8* 


90  THE    MECHANIC. 

of  associating  with  him.  Allow  me  to  say, 
Mr.  Harrison,  that  I  think  you  wrong  yourself. 
With  your  capabilities  you  might  even  rise  to 
the  highest  circles,  and,  by  and  by,  the  waxed 
ends,  and  the  awl,  would  be  no  more  thrown  in 
your  teeth.  Be  just  to  yourself.  Sink  the 
Shoemaker.  Leave  these  common  implements 
for  common  hands  ;  and  the  best  man  among 
us  would  not  blush  to  call  himself  your  friend.''' 

"I  ask  for  no  friendship  —  I  admit  no  ac- 
quaintance"—  returned  Mr.  Harrison,  "but 
on  the  ground  of  the  Universal  brotherhood  of 
man.  What  is  it  to  me  that  one  man  calls  this 
high,  or  this  low  ?  To  me,  nothing  is  high,  or 
low,  but  character.  How  should  soul  be  af- 
fected by  any  modification  of  matter  ?  True 
spirits  magnetize  and  attract  each  other.  They 
are  like  chemical  affinities,  which  ru-h  together. 
and  unite,  without  a  question  if  one  came  from 
a  golden,  and  the  other  from  an  earthen  v< 

"  In  the  nippers,  eh  !  Parkhurst  !  "  whisper- 
ed Mr.  Talbot,  to  the  subdued  and  silent  hero  : 
then,  turning  to  Mr.  Harrison,  he  said  aloud  : 
"  Go  on,  my  friend.  Preach  these  doctrines  ; 
for,  in  sustaining  them,  you  strike  at  the  very 
root  of  our  strongest  social  evil.  But  among 
us,  where  few  inherit  large  patrimonial  estates, 
the  mentally  gifted  will  not  generally  be  rich. 


THE    MECHANIC.  91 

^  Utilitarians,  make  the  exclusive  pursuit  of 
literature,  or  science,  rather  unproductive  —  as 
in  good  right  we  may  ;  since  the  most  healthful 
and  perfect  development  of  the  man,  will  be 
through  the  mutual  action  of  physical  and  men- 
tal labor.  '  ;  i urn  who  is  a  student, 
work  with  his  hands  This  is  my  theory.  " 

"JJut  a  word  of  our  people  of  family  ;"  said 
.Mr.  Kilbrook.  "  When  I  was  a  boy  this  class 
was  quite  numerous  ;  but  now,  in  its  original 
peculiarities,  it  is  hardly  recognized  among  us  ; 
and  it  is  •  ,y  diminishing.  Even  our 
friend  Parkhurst  IK  IT.  can  remember  his  father's 
lapstone  —  I  do  perfectly  —  I  remember .?: 

••  N  an    i:   I      the   privilege  of  age,  sir,  to  be 

:ulous  !  "  interrupted  the  oth-r.  lirrcely. 

"Yes,  the  *  of  telling  the  truth.      You 

know    the   adage,    '  children    (whether    old    or 
youiiL')    ah  a!c   the    truth.'     But  I  was 

going  to  say,  Mr.  Parkhurst,  that  I  perfectly 
renumber  the  day  when  your  ever  honored  fa- 
ther first  entered  Bo-tmi  ;  with  his  little  wallet 
of  clothes,  and  his  kit  of  tooU.  SUUIILT  manfully 
over  his  shoulder  as  became  a  trau-ling  Jour., 
seeking  employment.  I  know  these  things  ; 
for  it  was  my  own  Uncle  that  hired  him  ;  and 
my  own  cou<in  it  was  that  he  married  —  more- 
I  better  workman,  as  1  have  often  heard 


92  THE     MECHANIC. 

my  Uncle  say,  never  bristled  end.  So  you  be- 
long to  the  good  old  stock  —  the  root  of  all 
other  stocks,  Mr.  Parkhurst  —  the  People. 
Though  your  father  was  a  shoemaker,  we  hold 
you  none  the  worse  for  that.  We  welcome 
you  as  a  brother  ;  and  cordially  invite  you  to 
take  a  seat  with  us,  and  a  part  in  our  conver- 
sation. " 

There  was  something  in  the  old  gentleman's 
manner,  which  expressed  reproof  so  kindly,  so 
benevolently,  that  anger  and  ridicule  were  alike 
disarmed,  and  the  man  of  importance,  who  but 
a  moment  before  was  inflated  with  a  vapid  no- 
tion of  his  own  greatness,  now  extended  his 
hand  to  every  one  present  —  even  to  Victor  — 
with  a  subdued  and  gentle  air  ;  as  if  the  spirit 
of  a  very  lamb  dwelt  in  him.  The  point  of 
that  gentle  rebuke  was  not  to  be  mistaken  ;  and 
yet  it  was  couched  in  terms,  and  expressed  in  a 
spirit,  of  the  purest  kindness  ;  and  it  did  what, 
perhaps,  no  eloquence  could,  in  a  like  case, 
have  done  —  it  absolutely  found  a  heart  in  the 
calloused  bosom  of  a  mere  worldling. 

No  notice  was  taken  of  the  gentleman's  con- 
fusion ;  and  he  was  glad  to  find  a  still  corner, 
where,  for  a  time,  he  might  "  hide  his  diminish- 
ed head  ;  "  for  though  made  capable  of  feeling, 
he  had,  by  no  means,  come  to  think. 


THE      MKCIIVNIC.  93 

'•But.  to  return  to  our  original  subject  ;  " 
said  .Mr.  Talbot.  "  I  was  noing  to  observe  that 
the  old  aristocracy,  engrafted  from  the  European 
stock  is  daily  becoming  uprooted  by  the  natural 
growth  of  our  soil  —  by  the  clustering  foliage  — 
the  hardy  air1  n\\",  PH. is.  and  the  lar 

stretehing  arms  of  our  native  produeti«ms.     With 

circumstances    in    view,  it    would 
strain:!1   that  any   >hould   attempt   to  build  upon 
so  unstable  and    in-uliiricnt  a   foundation  ;   for. 
while  we  want  the  only  legitimate  basis  of 
pretension — a  lon^  line  of  il'ii-trimi 

oi'   pr'.i;;- 

tun1,  we  find  among  n-;  mar,;.  j  peo- 

ple   of  quality,   \\lio    illicit    hav< 

•,  during  the  iv't^n  of  i  :   since 

thi-y    \vonld    bt;     pii/./.'ed  to  tell    \\!;o    \\  el' 

grandfathers  ;  or.  if  th^y  m  would  be 

-I    o'd    gentleman's 

. 

a  plough-couchant  or  a  spindle,  or 
a  trowel-rampant.  r' 

••  .Now  this  IH-.-ICII  ion,  \\hieh  c;;n  never  be 
su-taiiifd.  "  -aid  .Mr.  (iray,  "  inu>t  strike  every 
one  jio-M->-rd  of  coininon  sense,  as  Ix-i 
weak  as  to  b«-  ijtiite  pitiful  ;  and  must,  I  think, 
furni-h  a  just  oee:i-ion  of  merriment  to  our  ar- 
chetypes over  tin-  Atlantic  —  who  can  boa-t.  at 


94  THE    MECHANIC. 

least,  that  their  injustice,  and  their  follies,  have 
the  shadow  of  a  foundation.  " 

"  The  very  idea  of  an  aristocracy  in  a  repub- 
lic, "  said  Mr.  Harrison,  "  where  there  is  no 
exclusive,  and,  of  consequence,  no  excluded 
caste,  involves  a  most  ridiculous  absurdity. 
With  us  one  condition  is  continually  merging 
itself  in  another.  Spendthrift  sons  rapidly 
squander  the  estates  which  were  hoarded  by 
their  miserly  fathers  ;  while  noble  sons,  ay,  and 
daughters  too,  are  continually  rising,  Phoenix- 
like,  from  the  ruins  of  inefficient,  or  unfortunate 
parents  ;  by  the  power  of  energetic  action,  and 
all-controlling  industry,  shaping  fortune  to  their 
will.  " 

"  We  are  certainly  guilty  of  some  things,  " 
said  Mr.  Talbot,  "  of  which  Republicans  ought 
to  be  ashamed  ;  and,  not  the  least  of  these,  is 
the  disesteern  in  which  the  manual  operatives 
of  our  commonwealth  are  held.  If  our  govern- 
ment was  really  aristocratical,  upholding  a  cer- 
tain caste  by  means  of  entailed  estates,  and 
hereditary  dignities,  such  a  result  might  be 
expected.  But  with  us,  where  the  humblest 
tyro,  rising,  invigorated,  from  his  straw  pallet, 
feels,  and  justly,  rationally,  too,  that  there  is  no 
office,  no  dignity,  beyond  the  reach  of  his  am- 
bition ;  where  there  is  no  person  of  rank,  how- 


MECHANIC.  95 

ever  high,  who  can  look  back  to  his  ancestry, 
or  round  among  his  kindred,  without  acknow- 
ledging they  are,  mainly,  of  the  common  people 
—  fanners,  mechanics,  laborers — this  condition 
of  things,  it  is  quite  evident,  proves  a  gross  want 
of  independence,  and  an  entire  departure  from 
the  doctrines  taught  by  our  fathers. " 

•  '•'  It  requires  no  gift  of  second  sight, "  ob- 
served Mr.  Harrison,  "  to  perceive  the  ridicu- 
lous figure  a  mushroom  lord  of  some  country 
village,  or  city  square,  whose  father  struck  fin- 
ished coins  from  his  ever-sounding  anvil,  would 
make  turning  up  his  honorable  i.ose  at  an  honest 
blacksmith  ;  yet  we  see  scenes  in  this  spirit 
enacted  daily — Mr.  Filbrook,  you  doubtless 
witness  many  of  them.  " 

"  That  I  do, "  returned  the  old  gentleman, 
"  and  sometimes,  it  excites  a  feeling  of  con- 
tempt ;  but  oftener  one  of  pity.  I  could  men- 
tion fifty  instances,  right  round  me,  of  the  sons 
and  daughters  of  mechanics,  whose  chief  claim 
to  distinction  rests  in  the  hard-earned  wealth  of 
their  honest  and  toiling  fathers,  turning,  with 
the  most  refined  disgust,  and  elegant  horror, 
from  persons  who  are,  every  way,  as  truly 
honorable  as  themselves,  merely  because  they 
wear  the  calloused  hands  of  honest  labor. 
This  spirit  tends,  not  only  to  the  check  and 


96  THE    MECHANIC. 

injury  of  social  intercourse,  but  to  the  des.truc* 
lion  of  erect,  honest,  staunch  Republicanism.'! 
"  Faith,  this  is  too  bad!  I  can't  stand  this 
fire  any  longer  !  "  exclaimed  Parkhurst.  spring- 
ing from  his  chair,  with  an  air  of  grandilo- 
quence, and  mock  desperation,  which  were 
quite  striking  and  remarkable.  "  Talbot,  I 
shall  see  you  again.  Good  morning,  gentle- 
men. "  Saying  this,  he  withdrew,  with  as 
much  awkwardness  and  discomfort,  as  if,  Talbot 
remarked,  he  had  been  hampered  by  his  poor 
honest  father's  own  waxed  ends,  and  pricked 
by  every  awl  in  the  kit  of  memory  ;  which  he 
had  vainly  thought  was  to  be  opened  no  more, 
for  ever.  The  latter  could  not  quite  forego  his 
parting  joke;  and  popping  his  head  out  of  the 
window,  as  his  friend  was  descending  the  steps, 
lie  called  out,  "  Ah,  Parkhurst !  a  shoe-knife 
is  a  dreadful  thing  to  cut,  especially  when  it 
thrusts  back  on  ourselves  the  reflected  wound, 
which  we  have  been  trying  to  inflict  on 
another.  " 

,  Several  persons  looked  up  ;  for  it  was  a 
public  street,  and  one  old  man,  in  particular, 
who  was  hobbling  on  crutches,  seemed  to  catch 
the  spirit  of  the  remark ;  for  his  gray  eyes 
kindled  with  long-unwonted  fire,  as,  leaning  on 
his  crutches  he  glanced,  with  a  look  of  intelli* 


THE     MECHANIC.  9 

Hence,  and  meaning,  from  the  speaker,  to  the 
one  addressed  —  the  latter,  meanwhile,  fled 
from  the  ground,  as  if  his  father's  complete 
family  of  tools,  bristles,  knives,  lapstone,  bench, 
and  awls,  had  been  in  full  chase  after  him. 

"  There, "  said  Mr.  Filbrook,  looking  out, 
>;  as  the  poor  fellow's  evil  stars  will  have  it. 
there  is  one  of  his  father's  journeymen  ;  "  then, 
calling  to  the  old  man  he  said,  "  Good  morn- 
ing, Mr.  Handy  !  did  you  see  little  Augustus?" 

"Ah,"  replied  the  other,  "he's  grown  up 
to  be  a  gentleman.  He  don't  see  poor  folks 
now.  But  many's  the  time  I've  dandled  him 
on  these  poor  old  knees  !  The  little  fellow 
seemed  to  love  me  then  ;  but  now  he  n> 
sees  me.  But  no  matter,  no  matter.  I'm 
lame,  and  old,  and  poor. 

"Do  come  in,  and  rest  you,"  said  Mr.  Gray. 

"  No,  no.     I  'm  used  to  going  about," 

"  What  occasioned  your  lameness  ?  "  enquired 
Mr.  Filbrook. 

"  O,  't  is  a  long  story.  I  had  weak  eyes  an? 
I  almost  lost  the  sight  o'  one  of  'em,  I  could 
not  see  to  work  at  my  trade.  Business  was 
bad.  I  couldn't  find  nothing  to  do.  At  last  I 
got  work,  tending  mason.  I  was  old  an'  stilt 
an'  not  used  to  that  climbing  sort  o'  business. 
I  fell  an'  broke  my  hip.  Then  I  told  my  wife 
9 


98  THE     MECHANIC. 

—  Gentlemen  I  will  come  io,  seein'  I  've  got 
to  talking  about  it  ;  for  what  I've  got  to  say 
had'nt  ought  to  be  spoke  here  —  "   Thus  saying 
he   hobbled  up    the  steps  ;    and    having   been 
seated  in  a  comfortable  arm  chair,  he  went  on. 
"  I  had  scraped    together  about   500    dollars. 
This  I  was  keepin'  agin  a  dark  day.     But  after 
I  got  hurt  I  was  laid  up  for  a  long  time.     We 
got  out  of  provisions.     Rent  was  due.     I  had 
nobody  to  depend  on  ;   for  my  children  all  lived 
in  distant  parts  of  the  country.     I  had  no  rela- 
tions about  here,  but   one  grandaughter,  that 
lived  with  us,  the  child  of  my  poor,  dead  Mary. 
Well,  1  told  my  wife  we  must  get  a  little  money, 
come  what  would.     She  thought  so  to.     So  we 
sent  Mary  to  Augustus  —  Mr.  Parkhurst  I  mean 

—  Mary's  a  proper  nice,  pretty  girl,  though  she 
is  mine.     She  saw  Mr.  Parkhurst  ;  an'  he  told 
her  plumply   that   he'd  failed,  an'  the  demand 
want  worth  a  cent ;  but  she  might  call  agin,  an' 
he'd  see  what  could  be  done.     Mary  cum  cry- 
in'  home,  an'  told  us.     This  was  a   dreadful 
blow.     Well,  we  got  along  for   several    days 
more'  till  we  got  entirely  out  of  things.     Mary 
went,  and  went,  day  after  day  ;  but  she  could 
never  see  Mr.  Parkhurst.     Sometimes  he  was 
engaged.     Sometimes   he  was   out.     We   had 
nothing  to  eat.     I  had  the  spirit  of  indepen- 


I  HP.     MECHANIC.  ')',) 

.  I  couldn't  bear  to  beg.  Mr.  Park!iiu.-,t 
had  failed,  to  be  sure  ;  but  be  did'nt  suffer  much 
on  that  account.  He  lived  in  the  same  great 
house.  He  had  the  same  fine  furniture.  He 
kept  servant?.  He  wanted  nothing.  But  there 
was  my  money,  that  I'd  worked  hard  for,  day 
an'  night,  year  arter  year.  He'd  spent  that  — 
an'  I  was  sick,  an'  my  own  poor  wife  an'  child 
was  starvin'  !  But  I  thought,  when  Mary  tokl 
me  how  't  was,  that  I'd  rather  starve  an'  die. 
than  be  like  him.  Well  one  day  Mary  mad.j 
out  to  see  him.  He  told  her  to  go  over  to  hi* 
counting-room.  Sho  went,  with  a  light  heart. 
l>ut  now  <  'worst  of  all.  What  did  tin 

villain  do  but  insult  her  —  insult  my  poor  child 
—  Hi;  ori'i'ivd  her  a  great  purse  of  money  — 
I  her  money,  when  he  could'nt  pay 

But  she  got  away  ;  for  she's  a  good, 
nice  girl.  She  got  away.  She  cum  runnin1 
home,  pale  as  death.  'T  was  a  long  time  afon- 
she  could  tell  us,  she  cried  so."  The  poor  old 
man  could  go  no  farther.  Tears  streamed  down 
his  furrowed  chee! 

•Have    I  called  this   villain,   friend!''    said 
Mr.  Talbot.     "  I  will  see  him.     And  if  he  does 
not  pay  you  every  cent  he  owes,  principal  ami 
-t.  he  shall  be  exposed  !  " 


100  THE     MECHANIC. 

"  But  how  did  you  get  along  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Gray. 

"  Thank  God,  he  has  permitted  some  of  his 
children  to  be  poor  !  There  are  still  hearts,  in 
some  of  his  creatures.  My  neighbors  - —  most 
of  them  poor  day-laborers,  assisted  me.  They 
got  plain  sewing  for  my  wife,  and  Mary,  and 
helped  us  along,  till  I  got  able  to  work.  Now 
I  have  plenty  of  business  ;  an'  we  do  pretty 
well.  But  the  thought  of  that  money  does 
come  ruther  hard.  I  put  it  into  his  hands,  ye 
see,  because  I  know  him,  and  believed  him  safer 
than  the  Bank,  in  these  difficilt  times. " 

"  Did  Parkhurst  never  go  to  see  you,  all  this 
time  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Harrison. 

"  Never.  I  sent  for  him  repeatedly  ;  but  he 
never  would  come. " 

"  Give  us  your  address,  if  you  please  ;  "  said 
Mr.  Filbrook.  "We  will  visit  the  gentleman 
and  see  what  can  be  done.  " 

"  Naming  a  narrow  alley,  in  an  obscure  part 
of  the  city,  Mr.  Handy  rose  to  go.  Each  of 
the  gentlemen  gave  him  his  hand,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  sympathy,  and  kindness. 

"  I  hope  you  will  always  come,  or  send  here, 
if  you  want  any  advice,  or  assistance,  "  said  Mi\ 
Gray, 


THE    MECHANIC.  101 

Wiih   a  strong   expression   of  gratitude,  th<- 
poor  old  man  then  took  his  leave. 

•   Vet  even  he  is  not  all  bad,  villain  as  he  is  ! 
i  such  a  one  has  a  heart !  "  sighed  Mr.  Har- 
:i  —  "  Even  he,  has  a  soul  !     Even  he  is  a 
man  !     O,  could  he  only  know  how  much  truer 
greatness  —  how  much  more  imposing  majesty 
—  really   exists  in   his  own  nature,  enervated, 
and  corrupted,  and  shackled,  and  hood-winked. 
is,  than  any  which  he  merely  apes,  would 
;iot  arise  ;  and,  casting  forth  the  shadow,  the 
vapor,    the    mockery   of  himself,    stand    out   a 
reality  —  a  truth  —  an  actual  being  ?     Yet  the 
day  is  coming,  even  for  these  —  but  first  shall 
romc  up  the  low,  and  the  miserable,  and  the  vile, 
to  drink  of  the  pure  waters  of  Truth,  and  be  r< 
deemed  ;  for  not  so  widely  have  they  departed 
from  the  true  standard,  however  deeply  they 
may  have  sinned,  as  those  who  have  immolated 
Nature  on  the  altar  of  Fashion,  who  have  cast 
down   the   sacred,   the   everlasting    ME,  which 
God  fashioned,  beneath  the  wheels  of  the  acci- 
dental  JUGGERNAUT    POPULARITY  ;  content,   if 
from  the  crushed  mass  may  be  fashioned  a  ma- 
chine, bearing  the  remotest  likeness  to  the  mis- 
guided,  but  still   divine    ME.     But    when   th»- 
light   which  God   placed  there,  is  dimmed  by 
ident,  or  wantonly  extinguished,  who  shall 
9* 


102  THE     MECHANIC. 

go  down  into  the  deepest  cells  of  the  human 
soul,  to  reillumine  and  gladden  its  dark  and 
desolate  places,  by  carrying  thither,  and  kind- 
ling again,  the  light  and  the  fire  of  Heaven  ? 
O,  it  seems  to  me,  at  times,  as  if  I  must  cry 
aloud,  as  with  a  prophet's  voice,  to  all  men  — 
and  to  every  man  —  and  tell  them  what  they 
are.  I  long  to  tear  away  THE  FALSE,  and  lay 
bare  THE  TRUE.  If  we  should  see  any  man 
take  the  one  precious  diamond  from  a  string  of 
pearls,  and  cast  it  forth,  and  plunge  it  in  filth, 
should  we  not  straightway  call  the  man  mad, 
and  seek  to  restrain  him,  as  an  idiot,  or  a  mani- 
ac ?  But  how  many  of  us  know  the  gem  which 
is  locked  in  our  own  bosom-casket  —  a  gem 
that  has  drunk  the  beams  of  Eternity  from  the 
kindling  Eye  of  God!  Are  WE  less  idiotic,  less 
mad,  to  trifle  with  THE  GEM  OF  MIND  —  not 
knowing  its  value  —  a  gem  which  may,  indeed 
corrode  within  us,  in  all  the  bitter  gangrene  of 
remorse  ;  but  which  we  can  never  lose  !  " 

"  These  are,  in  truth,  sad  reflections  ;  but  to 
revert  again  to  the  main  subject,  "  said  Mr. 
Talbot. 

"  A  truce  to  your  subject,  now  !  "  said  Ednah, 
entering  the  room  at  the  moment,  and  playfully 
laying  her  hand  on  his  mouth.  "  Dinner  is  on 
the  table  ;  and  after  you  have  partaken  of  our 


THE     MECHANIC.  I  U'> 

least,  we  hope  to  join  you  at  your  richer,  your 
more  bountiful  board,  where  the  mind  is  refresh- 
ed and  strengthened,  by  the  '  Feast  of  Reason, 
and  the  Flow  of  Soul. '  " 

Talbot  looked  with  more  love,  with  greater 
pride,  on  that  fair  girl,  as  she  stood,  in  the  sim- 
plicity of  her  domestic  attire,  lovely,  gentle, 
delicate,  truthful,  than  if  she  had  been  a  crown- 
ed queen  ;  and  passing  an  arm  gently  round 
her  waist,  he  kissed  her,  so  tenderly,  so  deli- 
cately, that  the  fair  cheek  scarcely  blushed  to 
receive  his  salutation. 


CHAPTER   X. 

"  Be  to  the  poor  like  onie  whunstanr, 
And  haud  their  noses  to  the  grunstaru-, 
Ply  every  art  o1  legal  thieving  ; 
No  matter,  stick  to  SOUND  BELIEVING.  " 

But 

"  Throwinge    oft'e    stones  as   neighbours'    windowes 
passe, 

Noe  man  shoulde,   when   his   o\vne  bee   made   offe 
glasse.  " 

AFTER  dinner,  their  necessary  domestic 
duties  being  done,  the  ladies,  Mrs.  and  Miss 
Gray,  joined  their  friends  in  the  parlor :  and, 
by  their  intelligent  and  pleased  attention,  by 
their  easy  and  sensible  remarks,  they  showed 
themselves  accustomed  to  the  Society  of  ra- 
tional beings,  on  equal  terms ;  and  also  proved 
themselves  conscious  of  the  possession  of  inde- 
pendent character,  and  of  the  action  of  free 
capabilities. 

"  But  shall  we  resume  our  subject  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Harrison,  with  a  glance  at  Talbot,  who  had 
been  assisting  Ednah  in  disentangling  her  net- 
ting thread. 

"  By  all  means  j :'  was  the  reply  ;   "  and,  I 


THE    MECHANIC.  105 

was  going  to  observe  some  time  ago,  that  it  is 
a  miserable  hypocrisy  —  it  is  a  contemptible 
servility,  which  emboldens  us  to  strut,  like  the 
da\v,  in  fable,  sporting  our  borrowed  plumage 
—  false  notions  of  gentility  —  imagining  our- 
y  fine,  while,  in  fact,  we  are  a  spec- 
tacle —  and  admired,  only  as  we  make  the 
observer  merry.  " 

We  might  as  well  attempt  to  decorate  the 
untamed  elephant  with  gauze  ;  "  said  Mr. 
Harrison,  "  or,  to  bring  the  simile  nearer  home, 
to  bind  point  lace  round  the  shaggy  neck  of 
our  own  wild  bison,  calling  the  frippery  a 
decoration,  as  to  fling  the  miserable  gossamer, 
:y  shreds  of  European  distinctions,  which 
are  fast  wearing  out,  even  there,  over  the  free 
limbs,  and  untrameled  soul,  of  a  native  Yan- 
kee. If  any  is  willing  to  wear  them,  or  can 
see  beauty,  or  propriety  in  them,  when  worn 
by  others,  depend  upon  it,  he  is  deterioratl 
he  is  retrograding  from  the  noble,  and  the  true. 
Tlic  mass  of  the  people,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  will 
not  long  submit  to,  nor  recognise  such  innova- 
tions ;  or,  rather,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  they 
who  will  inevitably  rise  above  the  mass,  may 
become  imbued  with  a  higher  spirit  of  patriot- 
ism—  with  a  purer  philanthropy  —  usiiu 

to  elevate,  rather  than   to  depress.  th«'ir 


106  THE    MECHANIC 

less  gifted,  and  less  fortunate  brethren.  All 
who  have  the  power,  and  yet  do  not  this,  are, 
virtually,  traitors  to  our  constitution,  and  apos- 
tates from  our  national  character.  " 

Just  at  this  moment  the  front  door  bell  rang  ; 
and  an  addition  was  made  to  the  party,  in  the 
person  of  Mr.  Crosby,  of  whom  each  one 
of  us  may  form  his  own  opinion.  He  was 
seated  ;  and  after  some  few  casual  remarks,  Mr. 
Filbrook  went  on. 

"  Labor,  with  us,  should  certainly  be  honor- 
able, for,  later  or  earlier,  in  some  form  or  other, 
all  our  people  labor ;  or,  at  least,  the  excep- 
tions to  this  rule  are  neither  many,  nor  honora- 
ble. The  necessity  of  labor  being  then  the 
lot  of  all,  we  create  our  distinctions  in  regard 
to  its  kind.  There  must  be,  it  is  true,  at  least, 
for  a  long  time,  distinctions,  and  gradations  in 
society.  Like  will  naturally  —  nay,  inevitably, 
be  associated  with  like  ;  but  as  the  moral  char- 
acter of  the  higher  classes,  and  the  intellectual 
character  of  the  lower  —  nominally  so  called  — 
become  elevated,  and  ameliorated,  there  will 
be  a  gradual  process  of  assimilation  between 
these  extremes  and  the  intermediate  class  ; 
until  every  ,false  distinction  shall  pass  away, 
and  be  no  more  known,  for  ever, 

'•' I  beg  your  pardon,  gentlemen, "  said  Mr, 


nin  MECHANIC.  107 

Crosby,  "  but  it  seems  to  me  you  are  getting 
radical.  This  savors  of  ultraisni.  We  should, 
to  be  sure,  respect  the  rights  of  the  people;  but 
is  there  not  great  danger  in  promulgating  opin- 
k;n~.  tending  to  make  the  lower  classes  discon- 
tented with  their  lot.  Is  it  not  a  necessary 
<  imlition  of  things,  that  there  should  be  ranks 
and  grades  in  society  ?  Must  I  invite  the  mat! 
who  saws  wood  at  my  door,  whether  white  or 
black,  to  dine  at  my  table  ?  " 

••  Certainly  not,  unless  you  choose  to  do  so," 

said   Mr.  Harrison;  "for  he,  not   having  been 

•omcd  to  your  mode  of  living,  you  would 

only    make    him    uncomfortable    by    doing    so. 

!'»'i:  I  coupler  your  t-iHe  ;i    a  no  more  honora- 

;ce  than  your  servants'  table,  unless  your 

true  moral  dignity  is  greater  than  their.-.      I'n- 

ir.     It   is  not  for  these  outward 

circumstances  that   we   contend  ;   but   for  Tin. 

1UCHTS    AND     MBEKTIES    OF    THE   SOUL.        'i 

:u<'  the  property  of  every  man  ;  and  of  these, 
no  man  may  waste  his  own,  or  abuse  his  broth- 
er's with  impunity.  " 

•  I  have  often  thought  that  we  have  comrnit- 
iid  Ednah,   '•'  in  placing 

our    tandard  of  the  man,  in  something  without, 

ternal    to    the    man,    in     dress  —  in    his 

profession  —  in    the    dignity  of   his    fathers  — 


108  THE     MECHANIC. 

rather  than  in   CHARACTER  which   is  the  man 
himself. " 

"  True.  Therefore  should  a  foreigner," 
said  Mr.  Talbot,  "  innocently  supposing  that 
our  Republicanism  had  a  positive  character  ; 
and  taking  it  for  granted  that  certain  passages 
in  our  '  Declaration  of  Independence  '  are  not, 
as  we  have  lately  discovered  them  to  he,  mere 
rhetorical  nourishes  —  express  himself  thus  : 
1  what  a  truly  free  and  happy  people  you  must 
he.  You  make  mental  power,  and  moral 
worth,  alone,  the  test  of  dignity  !  '  How  mor- 
tifying would  it  be,  to  contradict  him  —  to 
throw  the  lie  in  the  very  teeth  of  our  National 
Pretensions,  by  declaring,  <O,  no,  you  are 
quite  mistaken,  sir.  We  look  at  a  man's  busi- 
ness, to  see  if  it  be  genteel.  We  look  at  his 
hands,  to  see  if  they  are  white,  and  soft.  We 
look  not  at  the  whole  man,  to  mark  if  he  be 
honest  —  to  learn  if  he  be  true. ' ' 

It  has  been  said, "  observed  Mrs.  Gray, 
';  that  any  calling  has  dignity,  in  proportion  to 
the  amount  of  mind  required  to  be  active  in 
the  pursuit  of  it.  It  seems  to  me  this  is  a 
pretty  good  rule  if  we  will  adhere  to  it ;  and  if 
we  must  have  distinctions,  is  much  the  best. 
But,  as  far  as  I  have  observed,  I  think  that 
mechanics,  as  a  class,  stand  higher  in  point  of 


THE    MECHANIC.  109 

intellect,  and  certainly  in  strength  and  solidity 
of  character,  than  the  lower  orders  of  mer- 
chants and  retailers ;  and  the  reason  is  obvious, 
because  the  pursuit  of  any  mechanical  vocation, 
is  a  better  discipline  of  the  mind  —  requires 
more  talent,  and  that  of  a  higher  order,  than  is 
necessary  to  enable  one  to  descant  flippantly 
on  the  texture  of  silks,  or  the  hues  of  ribbons  ; 
and,  above  all,  to  smile  graciously  and  bow 
winningly  to  lady  customers.  Yet  mechanics, 
as  a  class,  do  not  stand  upon  a  level  with  retail 
dealers.  Why  should  they  not  ?  Nay,  if 
there  must  be  distinctions,  why  should  they  not 
rise  above  them  ':  As  for  manufacturers,  the 
most  successful  among  them,  are,  or  have  been 
mechanics ;  and  my  own  dear  father  here,  is  a 
good  instance. " 

••  1  respect  the  mechanics  —  no  man  respects 
and  honors  them  more  than  I  do,"  said  .Mr. 
Crosby ;  "  but  I  hold  that  they  should  keep 
their  places.  They  are  a  necessary  link  in  the 
chain  of  human  ranks ;  but  they  are  not,  and 
cannot  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  be  the 
t.  I  respect  these  people,  as  I  said  : 
but,  at  the  same  time,  I  am  happy  to  say  that 
our  family  blood,  in  all  its  ramifications,  yet 
remains  pure.  No  Crosby,  to  my  knowledge. 
ever  lias  been  a  mechanic. " 
10 


110  THE    MECHANIC. 

"  And  are  you  a  citizen  of  the  American 
Republic,  whose  very  basis  is  the  people  — 
and  the  laboring  people  ;  and,  yet.  unblush- 
ingly  speak  this  ?  "  said  Mr.  Harrison.  "  Why 
it  seems  to  me  that  the  ghosts  of  our  venerable 
fathers,  would  lift  their  own  labor-honored 
hands  from  their  very  graves  to  rebuke  you  ! " 

"  And  another  thing,  "  said  Mrs.  Gray, 
"  you  are  a  very  zealous  and  devoted  professor 
of  religion.  You  mark  with  a  quick,  and  I 
have  sometimes  thought,  unpitying  eye,  the 
slightest  delinquences  of  those  around  you  ;  but 
with  these  sentiments,  can  you  be  a  consistent 
follower  of  the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus  —  of 
him  who  sat  at  meat  with  the  poorest  who 
spake  with  kindness  to  the  vilest  ?  Excuse 
me,  Mr.  Crosby,  if  I  ask,  how,  according  to 
the  sentiments  you  have  just  expressed,  you 
can  suppose  it  quite  consistent  with  the  charac- 
ter of  the  true  gentleman,  to  acknowledge  for 
your  Lord  and  Master,  for  your  great  head  and 
leader,  a  carpenter,  and  the  son  of  a  car- 
penter ?  " 

"  O,  that  was  a  mere  typical  representation 
of  the  humility  which  clothes  the  heart,  when 
it  is  changed  from  the  state  of  nature  to  that  of 
grace. " 

"  1  too  believe  it  is  typical,  "  returned  Mrs. 


THE    MECHANIC.  I  1  1 

Gray  —  "  it  is  full  of  deep  and  peculiar 
meaning.  I  have  often  thought  that  that  single 
fact  embodied  the  essence  of  all  social,  politi- 
cal, and  moral  ethics  —  in  showing  us  that 
labor  —  physical  labor  is,  and  should  be  consid- 
ered honorable.  Truly  \vas  THE  LIFE  or 
liis  be>;t  and  purest  teaching." 

"  O,  if  you  speak  of  Christian  communion, 
I  acknowledge  that  we  shall  all  meet  on  com- 
mon, and  equal  grounds  there." 

u  I  !<•,<•  you  fall  into  the  common  mistake," 
said  Mr.  Filbrook,  "of  abstracting  religion  and 
its  duties,  from  the  affairs  and  duties  of  every- 
day life.  Is  religion  a  mere  holyday  garment, 
which  is  to  be  put  on  with  our  Sunday  coat, 
and  laid  aside  with  that  ?  "  —  Is  it  not,  rather. 
a  livini:  and  vital  principle,  dwelling  in,  and 
shining  through  the  whole  man,  modifying 
every  action  ?  Is  religion,  in  short — can  it  be 
any  thing  less,  or  more,  than  the  character  of 
the  soul  :  " 

••  K\eu>e  me.  —  cxeusi-  me,  gentlemen.  " 
said  Mr.  Cro-liy.  M  1  still  have  my  oj)inion  ; 
and  I  must,  if  I  speak  at  all,  protest  against 
this  spirit  of  leveling.  Hut  1  confess,  I  think 
iinur  upon  these  points  is  rather  beneath 
the  character  of  a  gentleman." 

rtainly,''   said   Mrs.  Gray,   "  to  wrangle 


112  THE    MECHANIC. 

upon  any  subject  is  beneath  the  character  of 
man  ;  but,  Mr.  Crosby,  you  say  there  have 
been  no  Mechanics  in  your  family  —  allow 
me  to  ask  if  there  have  been  no  lazy  charac- 
ters —  no  liars  —  no  slanderers  —  no  swearers 
—  no  drunkards — no  PAUPERS  among  you?" 

"  I  have  an  engagement,"  said  Mr.  Crosby, 
drawing  out  his  watch.  "  Excuse  me,  gentle- 
men and  ladies.  I  wish  you  a  very  good 
evening"  —  and  he  withdrew  without  apparent 
notice  of  the  last  question  ;  though  it  was  plain 
that  he  both  heard,  and  was  choked  by  it.  " 

"  Nothing  cuts  like  the  truth, "  said  Mr. 
Talbot,  as  the  door  closed.  "  Are  you  aware, 
Mrs.  Gray,  how  close  you  came  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  she  replied.  "  I  was  not 
aware  of  any  application.  " 

"  Well,  that  very  man  who  is  so  stark  mad 
about  distinctions,  has  a  sister  in  the  House  of 
Refuge,  a  brother  —  an  irreclaimable  profli- 
gate —  in  yonder  Asylum  for  the  Poor :  and 
there  also  died  an  uncle,  a  miserable  drunkard, 
leaving  the  poor  skeleton  of  a  wife,  and  six 
small  children,  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the 
world.  Comment  is  unnecessary.  " 

"  Just  what  might  be  expected, "  said  Mr. 
Filbrook.  "  It  really  provokes  me,  "  observed 
Ednah,  "to  see  young  ladies  who  have  the 


THE    MECHANIC.  1  lo 

reputation  of  being  well  educated,  and  matrons 
who  are  called  sensible  women,  reject  from 
their  society  the  whole  class  of  mechanics, 
while  they  smile  on,  caress,  and  court,  every 
thing  that  is  called  a  merchant.  " 

I'nless,  indeed,  it  be  a  TRAVELLING   MI;H- 
CHANT  "  —  added  Mr.  Talbot. 

"  But,  in  respect  to  these  false  distinctions 
of  society,  the  higher  orders  are  not  alone  to 
blame,"  said  Mr.  Harrison.  "  There  is  very 
little  self-respect  among  the  poorer  classes  — 
too  great  a  willingness  to  accede  to  the  demark- 
ations,  and  usurpations  of  the  other.  When 
they  learn  the  real  dignity  of  their  nature  —  a 
dignity  which  no  extrinsic  circumstance  could, 
possibly,  either  reach  or  modify,  they  will 
to  be  just  to  themselves.  In  this  country 
there  are  few  who  cannot  command  the  means 
of  procuring,  at  least,  the  basis  of  a  good  edu- 
cation. Every  class  is  capable  of  self-culture, 
and  thus  of  commanding,  in  a  higher  or  lower 
degree,  intellectual  pleasures,  which,  after  all. 
are  the  true  luxuries  of  life  ;  for,  possessing  and 
appreciating  these,  I  deny  that  the  laboring 
should  be  called  the  lower  classes.  The 
wealthy,  and  the  fashionable,  may  have  6no 
houses,  rich  furniture,  costly  apparel,  luxuries 
of  which  the  poor  man  never  dreams,  and 
10* 


114  THE    MECHANIC. 

servants  who  absolve  them  from  the  necessity 
of  labor;  but  that  they  really  occupy  a  higher 
place  in  the  range  of  intelligent  beings,  than 
many  whom  they  exclude  from  their  table,  and 
would  scorn  to  recognise  in  the  street,  I  cannot, 
for  one  moment  believe.  But,  after  all,  what 
is  all  this  worth  —  this  finery  —  this  grandeur 
—  this  sitting  at  certain  tables  —  this  recogni- 
tion in  the  street  —  whether  enjoyed  or  not  — 
whether  done,  or  left  undone  ?  Can  any,  or 
all  of  these  things,  either  give,  or  take  away, 
one  jot  of  real  character  —  one  point  of  true 
dignity  ?  I  think  not ;  but,  as  we  rise  above 
the  gross  bondage  of  sense,  we  shall  perceive 
these  things,  more  and  more  clearly.  The  very 
hair  might,  with  as  much  propriety,  say  to  the 
head,  'stand  back,  poor  Plebeian,  and  presume 
not  to  approach  me  !  '  as  for  the  fashionable  to 
use  like  language,  (whether  oral  or  practical) 
to  the  laboring  classes. 

"Let  mechanics,  then, "  s-aid  Mr.  Filbrook, 
'•'  respect  themselves.  Let  them  learn  their 
own  dignity,  and  tbeir  own  importance.  Let 
them  educate  themselves  and  their  children  — 
not  as  persons  predestined  to  a  circumscribed 
sphere  ;  but  as  citizens  of  the  United  States, 
invested  with  all  the  rights  and  privileges  of 
freemen  ;  —  as  men  and  women,  by  their  very 


TIIF.     MKCHAMC.  115 

nature,  so  noble,  thai  nt>/u  tntt  THK.MSI:I.\  Bfl 
///a;/  fow/t  f^tYr  nobility,  or  sully  it  in  the  least. 
Then  shall  the  filmy  shadow  of  aristocracy  no 
more  obscure  the  potent  sun  of  liberty,  which 
shines,  widely  and  equally,  over  all  this  land: 
the  eyes  that  cannot  perceive  this  must  be  dis- 
(1.  For  though  some  unrighteous  ones  have 
cast  the  baleful  shadow  of  their  own  iniquities 
over  their  brethren — yet  none  the  less  truly 
does  the  sun  shine  ;  and  none  the  less  quickly 
will  come  the  day,  when  every  noxious  vapor 
shall  have  been  absorbed  —  every  shadow  have 
bern  melted  away.  Then  >hall  all  the  ends  of 
the  earth  sing  together  —  manifesting  that 
'  where  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  is,  there  is 
Liberty.'" 

There  was  something  inexpressibly  beautiful 
in  the  good  old  man,  as,  with  a  fervor  truly 
prophetic,  he  breathed  these  \\ords.  For  a 
moment  his  eyes  remained  lifted,  the  long  sil- 
hair  falling  back  from  his  yet  fine!  brow, 
and  his  whole  face  expres-in^  the  lofty  charac- 
ter of  his  thoughts.  Who  could  disturb  such 
holy  musing  ':  There  was  a  devout  silence 
for  some  minutes  ;  and  then  conversation  was 
resumed  in  a  low  and  reverent  tone. 

l>ut  we  forbear.  Already  has  this  scene 
been  too  long  dwelt  upon  ;  for  who  does  not 


116  THE    MECHANIC. 

forget  all  time  in  converse  with  dear,  familiar 
friends  ?  Even  so,  dear  reader,  have  I  been 
tempted  to  linger ;  for  these  to  thee  new  ac- 
quaintances, are  to  me,  tried  friends,  having 
"  a  local  habitation,  and  a  name, "  as  it  were 
in  the  inmost  depths  of  my  being.  Then,  if 
their  conversation,  which  is  so  pleasant  to  me, 
be  otherwise  to  thee,  turn  to  the  next  chapter ; 
and  there  let  us  resume  our  narration. 

First,  let  me  say,  however,  that  from  this 
period  there  was  an  evident  change  in  the 
character,  as  well  as  the  feelings  of  Victor. 
He  became  more  thoughtful,  more  strictly  con- 
scientious —  more  heedful  of  his  own  progress 
—  while,  at  the  same  time,  there  was  a  new 
clearness  in  the  meaning  of  things.  What  had 
of  late  been  mysteries,  seemed  written  out,  as 
it  were,  in  his  own  vernacular  tongue  —  he 
now  conned,  and  knew  them.  Most  favorable 
was  the  impression  which  he  made  on  his  new 
acquaintances  ;  and,  on  parting  with  him,  they 
extended  to  him  the  most  flattering  expressions 
of  interest  and  friendship.  He  had  gathered 
up  all  their  sayings,  and,  long  after,  he  pon- 
dered them  carefully.  His  heart  was  as  the 
good  ground,  receiving  the  good  seed ;  and  it 
gave  promise  of  bringing  forth  fruit  "  an  hun- 
dred fold. » 


CHAPTER  XL 

••  A  ml  truly  it  demands  something  godlike  in  him,  who 
it  ofl"  the  common  motives  of  humanity,  and  has 
ventured  to  trust  himself  for  a  task-master.  High  bo  his 
heart,  faithful  his  will,  clear  his  sight,  that  he  may  in 
good  earnest  be  doctrine,  society,  law  to  himself,  that  A 
MM ITI:  ri  RPOSI  may  be  to  him  as  strong  as  iron  neces- 
sity to  others.  " 

SELF  RELIANCE. 

Rankin  soon  found  that  he  must  alter  his 
.  and  proceed  more  covertly  in  his  work 
of  malice  ;  for  he  had  bent  himself  upon  the 
ruin  of  Victor  ;  and  he  was  determined  to 
it.  For  some  time  —  ever  since  the  \nit 
to  the  Infidel  meeting,  lie  had  discontinued 
reading  the  Bible  with  him  ;  but  whenever  ho 
met  him,  it  was  with  a  degree  of  kindness  the 
latter  was  not  prepared  to  expect.  He,  in- 
de.-d.  expressed  his  regret  that  Victor  should 
have  hrtr.iy.-d  his  friend  ;  or,  rather,  that  he, 
should  have  given  a  mere  joke,  a  turn  so  en- 
tirely against  him,  by  taking  it  as  if  it  were 
really  a  serious  matter. 

You  must  see,"  he  said,  "that  I  .suffer  in 


118  THE     MECHANIC. 

the  good  opinion  of  Mr.  Gray,  as  well  as  the 
rest  of  the  family.  But  I  forgive  you,  Victor, 
freely  as  I  hope  to  be  forgiven.  And,  now, 
say  if  we  shall  not  be  friends  again!"  he  added, 
cordially  extending  his  hand. 

It  could  not  be  in  the  nature  of  a  generous 
and  unsuspecting  boy  of  eighteen,  to  resist  such 
an  appeal  ;  and  he  gave  his  hand,  frankly  ex- 
pressing his  regret  that  the  affair  should  have 
transpired  at  all. 

"  You  are  a  lucky  fellow,  Vic  !  "  continued 
the  other,  condescendingly  offering  his  arm  as 
they  proceeded  down  the  street  together,  "  You 
are  a  lucky  dog  ;  and  you  know  it. " 

"I  think  that  I  am  fortunate  ;"  returned  the 
other,  with  the  greatest  simplicity.  "  I  am  sure 
there  are  few  apprentices  who  have  such  advan- 
tages as  I  enjoy.  They  are  altogether  beyond 
my  expectations,  and  beyond  my  desert. " 

"I  see  you  are  disposed  to  avail  yourself  of 
the  best  of  them,  notwithstanding;"  returned 
Rankin,  with  an  ill-suppressed  sneer,  "The 
fevor  with  which  Miss  Gray  regards  you  is  not 
unmarked,  I  assure  you.  There  will  be  warm 
work  when  poor  Talbot's  eyes  come  to  open. 
Poor  fellow  !  they  are,  very  fortunately,  blinded 
just  now,  with  such  a  thick  veil  of  Philanthropy 
and  Trust !  Poor  fellow  !  Have  you  counted 


THE     MECHANIC.  119 

the  odds,  and  calculated  the  chance  of  shots  in 
the  case  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  understand  you  ;  "  returned  Vic- 
tor, with  a  look  of  astonishment. 

"  That's  well  got  up  —  that  look  of  inno- 
cence, of  honesty.  But  'you  can't  catch  old 
birds  with  chaff. '  It  don't  go  down  here. 
Well,  Master  Simple-heart,  shall  I  spare  your 
blushes,  and  make  it  all  plain  to  you  ?  You 
don't  know,  I  suppose,  the  meaning  of  all  this 
reading,  and  drawing,  and  botanizing,  and  going 
to  L'Ttures.  You  don't  understand,  then,  that 
Miss  Gray  loves  you,  and  is  determined  to  shake 
off  Talbot,  the  first  convenient  opportunity  ?  " 

suppressed  irony  got  rather  too  strongly 
into  his  expression  ;  but  the  excited  hoy  did 
not  heed.  "  You  astonish  me  !  "  he  said. 

••   \ndyou  do  not  know,  "  continued  Kankin, 

"  in   the   same   tones,  that   you  love   this  same 

hiily,  who  is  so  very,  very  kind  to  you  ? 

and  he  mimicked  the  manner  of  Victor,  in  using 

his  laiiini 

';  My  friend,"  continued  the  other,  "you  are 
young  and  simple-hearted.  I  am  more  experi- 
enced, and  will  teach  you.  I  cannot  bear  to 
see  so  good  a  chance  thrown  away.  All  you 
to  do  is  to  speak  out,  at  once,  boldly,  and 
the  prize  is  yours  You  ought  not  to  expect 


120  THE     MECHANIC. 

the  young  lady  to  do  all  the  wooing.  You 
surely  do  not  mean  to  wait  until  she  actually 
comes  to  make  the  proposal  ?  That  she  ex- 
pects one,  is  a  fact  which  I  know  ;  and  that 
this  is  all  she  is  waiting  for,  is  another  fact.  " 

"  How  do  you  know  these  are  facts  ?  "  ea- 
gerly inquired  Victor,  nattered,  as  was  very 
natural,  by  the  supposed  preference  of  one 
whom  he  considered  so  much  his  superior. 

"  O,  by  a  thousand  things  ;  which,  if  you  had 
not  been  blinded  by  love  yourself,  my  dear  little 
boy,  you  must  have  seen.  " 

"I  really  cannot  believe  it  ;  she  is  so  much 
older  than  I  am  —  and  so  entirely " 

"  Devoted  to  Mr.  Talbot  —  you  would  have 
said  ;  "  interrupted  Rankin  —  "  All  sham  ;  de- 
pend upon  it,  my  dear  fellow.  And  as  for  your 
ages,  so  much  the  better.  Now,  my  dear  boy, 
what  are  you  going  to  do  —  profit  by  this 
friendly  hint,  which  I  have  dropped  all  in  confi- 
dence —  you  understand  —  or  will  you  let  this 
chance  of  all  chances  go  by,  leaving  your  disap- 
pointed fair  one  to  pine  over  your  coldness,  and 
your  cruelty,  and  be  a  poor  drudge  forever?  " 

"  What  would  you  advise  me  to  do  ?  "  asked 
Victor,  perfectly  bewildered. 

•'  What,  my  dear  fellow,  but  to  step  up  to 
the  lady  at  once,  and  offer  yourself,  like  a  lad 


THK     MKCHAN1C.  121 

of  spirit ;  and  if  Talbot  attempts  to  interfere, 
knock  the  poor  devil  down  ;  and  so  commend 
yourself,  at  once,  to  your  lady  love.  " 

Victor  was  silent  a  moment  ;  and  then  he 
said  ;  "  I  shall  do  no  such  thing.  Even  if  all 
you  have  told  me  were  true  —  and  I  do  not  be- 
lieve  it  —  I  could  never  make  so  ungrateful  a 
return,  for  all  the  kindness  I  have  met,  both 
from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  CJray. " 

"  You  will  not,  will  you  ?  "  returned  Rankin, 
laughing  —  "we  shall  sec  —  but  come  in  here 
Hyde,  and  drink  to  your  obliging  Fair,  in  a 
bumper  of  red  wine  ;  and  then  you  will  own 
yourself  a  real  lover  ;  and  your  courage  will  be 
sufficient  for  all  occasions.  " 

••  I  cannot  stop  now  ;  "  said  Victor,  attempt* 
ing  to  hurry  past  the  magnificent  hotel  where 
they  stood.  "  I  mu-t  go  now.  you  know,  on 
the  errands  I  have  to  do  for  Mr.  Gray,  before 
the  stores  are  shut  for  the  night.  " 

••  Then-  it  is  again  —  dull  matter-of-fact! 
Why,  my  dear  fellow,  you  are  not  worthy  so 
much  love,  and  so  nuu-h  beauty,  as  are  ready 
to  be  lavished  on  you.  I  will  tell  the  lady  my- 
self you  are  a  poltroon  —  a  cold,  heartless  lump 
of  clay  —  that  can  run  of  errands  for  messes  — 
for  pork,  and  beans,  and  lard,  and  onions,  at  the 
very  moment  \\hen  love  and  beauty  stand  ready 
11 


122  THE     MECHANIC. 

to  cast  themselves  into  your  arms. "  Without 
waiting  a  reply,  he  seized  the  hand  of  the 
wondering  boy  ;  and  favored  hy  the  in  pressing 
crowd,  who  were  going  to  attend  a  lecture  in 
an  adjoining  hall,  drew  him  into  the  room  of  the 
D.  I.  S.  O.  T.  D.  Club.  The  stranger  was 
led  into  the  midst  of  a  throng,  who  were  met  to 
celebrate  the  first  anniversary  of  their  Society. 

"  Mr.  Hyde,  gentlemen  !  "  said  Rankin,  drag- 
ging forward  the  reluctant  victim.  "  An  odd 
fellow  ;  but  prime  in  his  way.  Fill  up,  gentle- 
men !  Fill  high !  and  let  us  pledge  to  his  lady- 
love—  and  toliis  better  acquaintance,  with  you, 
and  with  life  —  the  life  of  life  !  —  "  he  added, 
as,  pouring  out  the  liquor,  he  handed  one  glass 
t<^  Victor  ;  and,  lifting  his  own,  he  proposed 
"  The  health  of  Miss  Ednah  Gray  !  "  and 
drained  the  goblet  at  a  draught.  The  pledge 
was  answered  around  with  many  profane  and 
lewd  interjections,  which  made  Victor's  cheek 
burn  with  indignation,  to  hear  the  name  of  one 
so  truly  good,  and  pure,  breathed  by  the  unhal- 
lowed lips  of  the  libertine  and  the  inebriate.  So 
great  was  the  confusion  occasioned  by  these  ob- 
scene jests,  and  the  reiterating  vollies  of  laughter 
they  drew  forth,  that  it  was  not  perceived  that 
Victor's  glass  remained  untasted,  full  and  run- 
ning over. 


THE    MECHANIC. 

*•  Drink,  my  dear  fellow  !  "  whimpered  Rankin. 
•  Quick  !  I  beseech  you  !     If  it  is  perceiv 
ivfu-e.  your  character  is  gone  forever.  " 

"  I    do    not    drink    wine  ;    returned    Victor, 
firmly,  at  the  same  time  setting  down  his  glass. 

••  Von  belong  to  the  Temperance  Society, 
my  fine  little  fellow  :  ''  squeaked  a  tall,  and 
rather  interesting  young  man,  imitatir. 
drawling  cant  of  the  unco  good  ;  as  planting  a 
hand  in  each  pocket,  he  drew  himself  up  to  his 
utmost  height,  and  stood  before  our  hero. 

••I  do  ;  "  replied  the  other,  with  more  firm- 

iian  the  interrogator  was  prepared  to  meet. 

\;ul  pray   when   did  you  join  that  august 

•  •ontinued     the    latter,    in    the    same 

drawling  tones. 

The  same  day  that  his  grandmother  died  ;  '" 
said  a  stentorian  voice  from  another  part  of  the 
room  as  arose  one  of  such  strongly-marked  ani- 
mal character,  as  to  be  quite  remarkable,  even 
there,  ami  the  coarse  jest  —  (if  jest  it  might  be 
called,  \\hieh  had  neither  sense  nor  wit) — was 
garnished  by  an  oath,  that  was  echoed,  and  re- 
echoed,  amid  the  coarsest  peals  of  laughter, 
••  Spirits  is  out  of  the  question  in  these  refined 
id  another,  :i  but  you  drink  wine,  o 
com 

I    neither   drink   wine   nor    any    fermented 


124  THE    MECHANIC. 

liquors  ; "  replied  Victor,  attempting  to  force 
his  passage  out. 

"  A  teetotaler !  "  shouted  the  Stentor,  with  a 
splashing  oath  ;  and  "  A  teetotaler  !  "  was 
echoed  amid  thundering  shouts,  and  bacchanal 
jests,  and  laughter. 

"  Come  aside,  a  moment  ;  "  whispered  Ran- 
kin  ;  and  drawing  Victor  to  a  recess,  he  con- 
tinued. "  Getting  drunk  is  out  of  the  question  ; 
but  drinking  is,  here,  in  the  city,  my  dear  fellow, 
a  matter  of  course,  and  unavoidable.  Some  of 
these  young  men" — he  whispered  lower  — 
"  belong  to  the  first  families  in  the  city.  They 
are  entirely  above  either  of  us,  in  point  of  rank  ; 
and  if  you  ever  want  to  rise,  and  be  anything, 
now  is  your  time.  I  owe  my  acquaintance 
here,  and  my  union  with  this  club  to  a  lucky 
accident  ;  and,  with  much  difficulty,  I  have 
succeeded  in  inducing  them  to  admit  you.  It 
is  a  great  favor,  you  may  depend,  and  I  beg  of 
you  not  to  make  me  ridiculous,  by  refusing  to 
comply  with  so  reasonable  a  request.  Drink 
one.  glass,  I  beseech  of  you- — only  one  glass  !  " 

Victor  was  confounded.  The  earnest  plead- 
ing of  Rankin's  tones  touched  his  heart.  He 
felt,  for  a  moment,  only  the  kindness  the  latter 
had  shown  him.  It  seemed  really  ungenerous 
to  refuse.  But  at  the  moment  of  vibration,  he 


THE    MECHANIC. 

looked  up  ;  and  a  survey  of  the  group  of  swol- 
len and  flushed  faces  around,  settled  the  balance 
aright.  "  The  end  of  these  things  is  death  !  " 
was  audihly  whispered  in  his  soul  ;  and,  for 
one  moment,  the  image  of  his  widowed  mother, 
with  a  look  of  mingled  fear  sorrow  and  reproof, 
seemed  to  glide  through  the  midst.  The  idea 
made  him  strong. 

••  Why  am  I  here  ?  "  he  asked.  •'<  Let  me 
be  gone  !  "  and  he  again  attempted  to  leave  the 
room. 

'•'  Catch  him  !  "  cried  one. 

••  Hold  him  !  "  cried  another. 

••  He  is  tied  to  his  granny's  apron  strings  !  " 
shouted  a  third. 

''  Search  him,  and  find  the  clue  !  "  said  yet 
another. 

With  bacchanal  shouts,  and  the  most  horrid 
oaths,  several  seized  upon  the  boy,  and  attempt- 
ed to  strip  off  his  clothes.  Our  hero  had  imag- 
ined himself,  in  principle,  a  non-resistant  ;  but 
there  is  an  instinct,  stronger  than  any  principle; 
in  the  character  of  every  high-spirited  boy, 
which  prompts  him  to  resist  force,  or  insult  ; 
and  right  handily,  and  without  question,  did 
Victor  lay  about  him  ;  and  that  with  such  good 
spirit,  as  to  distance  his  tormentors,  and  compel 
11* 


126  THE    MECHANIC. 

ihem  to  abandon  the  design  of  unrobing  him. 
The  enemy  rallied  again. 

"  The  child  is  sick.  He  needs  medicine  !  " 
cried  one. 

"  If  he  refuses  to  take  it,  force  it  down  ! " 
cried  another  ;  and  they  seized  the  boy,  who, 
resolutely  closed  his  teeth,  and  the  wine  was 
dashed  in  his  face  ;  while  several  other  gob- 
lets, administered  in  the  same  way,  completely 
drenched  his  clothes. 

"  Stand  back  !  "  cried  the  Stentor  :  and  a 
huge  mass  of  flesh  and  blood  made  its  way 
towards  our  hero  ;  who  stood,  nearly  blinded, 
wiping  the  wine  from  his  eyes  ;  and,  setting  a 
silver  goblet  on  the  table  opposite  Victor,  he 
said,  with  the  most  menacing  air,  and  a  suitable 
garnish  of  oaths  ;  "  Drink  that,  sir  !  every  drop 
of  it,  sir  —  and,  if  you  dare  to  disobey  me,  sir, 
I  '11  knock  you  into  H-ll !  " 

"  Not  one  single  drop  ; "  returned  Victor, 
planting  his  foot  firmly,  and  folding  his  arms 
upon  his  breast  —  "You  dare  not  —  you  can- 
not compel  me  to  do  it.  I  will  die  first.  " 

The  energy  of  a  resolute  soul  wrought  its 
work ;  not  one  dared  to  approach  him  ;  and,  for 
a  moment,  there  was  silence,  with  a  feeling 
of  awe  ;  as  if  the  consciousness  of  a  superior 


THE     MECHANIC. 

presence  had  pervaded  their  minds.     It  was  but 
momentary. 

"  Set  him  in  the  desk  ! "  they  shouted. 
"  Let's  have  a  temperance  lecture  !  "  "  A  tem- 
perance lecture  !  "  "  Hear  the  teetotaler  !  " 
"Hear!  Hear." 

With  these  shouts  Victor  was  home  into  the 
desk  ;  and   then   there   was  a  silence  of  some 
minutes,  as  if  he  were  really  expected  to  speak. 
He  looked  for  a  way  of  escape  ;  but  the  passage 
from  the  desk  was  guarded.     He  thought  of 
leaping  over  the  top  ;  but  he  knew  there  would 
be  numbers  ready  to  prevent  him.     Suddenly 
he  grew  calm.      He  became  collected  and  mas- 
ter of  himself,  as  he  said  ;  ;'  Since,  by  a  unani- 
mou-   vote.  I  am  called  upon  to  address  you, 
gentlemen,  I  feel  bound  to  say  that  I  think  — 
very   much   as  you  feel,  when   the  lees  settle 
heavily  on  your  brain  —  I   think  it  is  all  Lad. 
So  the   quicker  you  get  rid  of  it  the  better. 
There  is  in  each  of  you  a  soul,  with  capacities, 
boundless  as   the  Universe  —  with  hopes,  infi- 
nite as   Eternity,     You  may  crush,  you  may 
degrade  —  you  may  brutalize  this   being;  but 
you  can   never  kill  :   IT  WILL  LIVE   and  bear 
imony,  either  for  good,  or  evil,  forever  and 
ever  !     Are   you  —  1  put  the  question  to  each 
one   of  you — are  you  willing  to   he  a  brute. 


128  THE    MECHANIC. 

when  you  may  be  a  man  ?  As  for  myself,  God 
has  given  me  A  FREE  WILL,  TO  DO  —  and  TO 
BE  —  and  the  Devil  shall  not  take  it  away  ! " 

This  little  speech,  made  in  sheer  desperation, 
really  seemed  to  produce  a  good  effect.  One 
by  one  they  drew  away  from  the  desk  ;  and 
Victor,  finding  his  way  no  longer  opposed, 
came  down  quietly.  Rankin  met  him  on  the 
platform  —  he  was  thinking  of  the  untimely 
development  of  his  last  plot  ;  and  t  something 
whispered  him  this  would  be  no  better.  At 
least,  he  felt  it  was  prudent  to  treat  with  the 
enemy.  In  a  low  conciliating  tone,  he  whis- 
pered, 

"  I  did  not  think  of  carrying  the  joke  so  far. 
Then,  turning  to  some  acquaintances  who  came 
up,  as  if  to  detain  the  hero  of  the  hour,  he  said, 
'•  We  must  let  him  go  now  ;  for  he  is  contrary 
as  the  very  devil,  when  he  is  roused.  But  he 
can't  deny  he  has  taken  wine  with-  us  !  "  he 
added,  with  a  glance  at  the  drenched  garments 
of  Victor. 

"  He  is  profuse  of  luxury,  as  Bacchus,  him- 
self! "  said  one,  "for  he  is  actually  bathed  in 
nectar.  " 

"  Excuse  me,  for  a  moment,  gentlemen,  said 
Rankin,  and  he  passed  out  with  Victor,  quietly 
as  possible.  In  passing  forth  the  latter  was  no 


THE    MECHANIC.  129 

less  surprised,  than  shocked,  to  perceive  Robert 
(uay.  already  sensibly  the  worse  for  liquor. 
He  attempted  to  crouch  away,  and  appeared 
desirous  of  avoiding  Victor. 

"  Take  Robert  with  us  !  "  whispered  the  lat- 
ter. "  Do  take  him  with  us  !  " 

"Impossible,  my  dear  follow!  Mow  can 
you  think  me  so  barbarous  ?  He  is  in  the  third 
heaven  of  ecstacy.  " 

'•  I3ut  his  parents,  "  continued  Victor,  "  they 
will  be  offended  with  him,  and  with  you  !  " 

••  \ot  in  the  least,  my  dear  fellow  ;  and,  for 
th"  -implc  reason,  that  they  will  never  hear  a 
syllable  of  the  matter.  -Your  simplicity  does 
not  seem  to  suspect,  how  many  times  I  have 
led  him  home  in  his  cup-,  and  put  him  snu^  in 
bed.  with  the  utmost  secrecy  ;  and  I  am  ready, 
at  any  time,  to  perform  the  same  kind  office  for 
you  ;"  he  added,  contemptuously. 

"  I  shall  never  trouble  you  in  that  way  !" 
returned  Victor  proudly  ;  but  I  insist  upon 
taking  Robert  home. " 

"  Insist  upon  no  such  thing  —  do  not  re-enter 
that  room,  except  as  one  of  us.  If  you  go 
back,  you  stay  there  ;  and  you  drink  with  us. 
There's  no  two  ways  about  that.  My  advice 
is,  use  your  liberty,  if  you  value  it.  One  word 
more;"  he  continued,  as  they  reached  the 


130  THE     MECHANIC. 

street.  "  In  Heaven's  name,  do  not  betray  me 
at  home  !  Remember,  I  trust  to  your  honor. 
I  confide  in  your  generosity.  You  surely  will 
not  betray  me  !  Let  me  think,  what  story  can 
be  invented  to  account  for  your  drenching  ?  " 

"  I  shall  invent  nothing  ;  "  returned  the  other. 
"  If  I  tell  any  thing,  it  must  be  the  truth.  " 

'•'There  —  thank  Heaven!  it  rains!  That 
will  wash  the  smell  of  wine  from  your  garments, 
and  account  for  the  wetting  ! "  said  Rankin. 
Go  now.  Run  ;  or  the  shops  will  be  shut. 
Say  nothing  of  Robert,  or  me.  Remember  I 
trust  to  your  generosity." 

Victor  gladly  availed  himself  of  the  liberty  tQ 
fly  ;  and  ran,  like  a  frighted  bird  escaped  from 
the  fowler's  snare,  with  only  one  object  in  view, 
viz.  that  of  increasing  the  distance  between  him- 
self and  his  foes.  But  he  soon  recollected  his 
commissions  ;  and  he  hastened,  with  his  utmost 
speed  to  the  several  stores,  which  he  had  the 
good  fortune  to  reach  just  in  time  to  obtain  what 
he  wanted,  before  they  closed  ;  for  it  was  now 
nearly  10  o'clock. 


CHAPTER   XI 1. 

"  Blest  mother,  who  in  wisdom'*  liglit 

By  her  own  jKircnt  trod, 
Thus  tringht  her  M>U  to  llee.  (he  wrath 

Ami  know  the  lV;ir  of  (Jod  : 
All,  youth,  like  him,  enjoy  your  prime. 
Begin  eternity  in  time, 

Taught  l>y  that  motlicr  s  love." 

MONTI.  "Mi  \.\ 

••  WE  have  been  really  concerned,  you  were 
•_rone  so  long  :  "  said  Mi's.  Gray,  as  Victor 
entered.  ••  Tray  have  you  <=een  any  thing  of 
Robert  ?  He  has  not  been  home  since  dinner. 
Why  how  wet  you  are  !  "  she  added,  taking  ii 
for  granted  that  he  knew  nothing  :  "  \\rt  and 
icy.  It  is  a  vi-ry  tedious  night.  Do  ask 
Bridget  for  a  dry  shirt,  and  change  your  clothes 
directly.  " 

Pom-  Victor  was  glad  for  this  momentary 
recite.  HI-  did  not  know  what  to  do.  He 
thought,  at  HIM.  it  was  right  to  tell  Mr.  Gray 
at  once  \\heie  Robert  was.  and  his  situation; 
but  he  was  afraid  that  if  he  should  betray  him, 
he  might  be  sO  indignant,  as  to  be  determined 


132  THE   MECHANIC. 

in  a  bad  cause.  Then,  again,  he  thought  he 
was  doing  wrong  to  wait  a  single  moment ;  for, 
from  the  violence  which  was  offered  to  himself, 
he  had  no  doubt  there  was  extreme  danger,  in 
suffering  one  like  Robert  to  remain  in  such 
reckless,  unprincipled  company.  He  knew  it 
was  dangerous  to  offend  Rankin  ;  but,  for  him- 
self, he  thought  not,  feared  not ;  and  without 
changing  his  clothes,  he  went  down  stairs  (for 
he  had  gone  to  his  chamber  a  moment  to  col- 
lect himself)  and,  taking  Mr.  Gray  out,  told 
him  frankly  the  whole  :  of  course  omitting  the 
conversation  in  respect  to  Ednah.  Mr.  Gray 
immediately  told  his  wife ;  for  he  had  no  secrets 
from  her  ;  and,  bidding  her  keep  up  good  cour- 
age, took  Victor  and  went  forth,  in  search  of 
the  offender  —  leaving  that  mother  in  a  state  of 
agony,  which,  only  a  tender,  true  mother,  like 
herself,  could  feel.  They  went  directly  to  the 
hall,  which  Mr.  Gray  entered,  and  enquired  for 
his  son  ;  but  Rankin,  expecting  such  a  visitor, 
had  withdrawn  to  some  nook  with  his  victim  ; 
and  Mr.  Gray  was  told  they  had  been  gone  for 
some  time. 

"  I  doubt  this  story, "  he  said,  as  he  rejoined 
Victor  on  the  steps,  and  told  him  the  result  of 
his  enquiry.  "  Let  us  wait  here  under  this 
arch,  till  they  come  out. " 


THE    MECHANIC.  133  - 

They  accordingly  sheltered  themselves  from 
observation  ;  and  very  soon  the  riotous  com- 
pany began  to  pour  forth  ;  for  they  had  made 
so  much  noise  that  the  landlord  had  threatened 
them  with  a  visit  from  a  police  officer.  The 
quick  eye  of  Victor  soon  distinguished  the  light 
form  of  Rankin,  who  was.  himself,  much  too 
cunning  to  be  drunk  ;  though  he  so  ably  assist- 
ed in  making  others  so.  Poor  Robert,  almost 
frantic,  was  led  between  him  and  another,  who, 
with  their  united  strength,  could  scarcely  re- 
strain him.  Shortly  after  they  left  the  hou>e. 
he  extricated  himself  from  his  leaders,  one  of 
whom  was  considerably  worse  for  liquor  ;  and 
sprang  forward,  with  the  frightful  energy  of 
one,  who  puts  forth  his  whole  remaining 
strength  against  his  enemy.  In  doing  this  he 
trod  on  a  loose  bit  of  ice,  and  was  thrown 
with  great  force  against  the  projecting  corner 
of  a  building.  With  one  deep  «.rroan  he  rolled 
upon  the  ground,  with  the  heaviness  and  the 
stillness  of  death.  In  a  moment  a  fearful 
silence  succeeded  the  riotous  clamor  ;  for  the 
thought  of  death,  even  to  those  calloused,  mad- 
dened creature-,  was  horrible.  In  an  instant 
Mi.  (Jray  ru-hed  to  the  spot,  pressing  madly 
through  the  crowd  that  gathered  round,  suffi- 


134  THE     MECHANIC. 

cient  to  suffocate  the  poor  boy.  He  lifted  his 
son  in  his  arms.  He  was  cold  and  stiff. 

"  O,  my  boy  !  my  poor,  murdered  boy  !  " 
he  exclaimed  ;  and,  as  if  paralyzed,  he  sank 
with  his  burden  to  the  ground  ;  and  groans  of 
the  bitterest  anguish,  not  unmingled  with  re- 
morse, broke  the  horrible  stillness. 

For  some  minutes  Victor,  from  the  lightness 
of  his  form  was  prevented  from  approaching  ; 
but  calling  upon  some  passers-by  for  assistance, 
he  made  his  way  through  the  crowd ;  and  when 
he  came  up,  by  the  fitful  glimmering  of  the 
lamp,  through  a  dark  and  stormy  night,  a  fearful 
spectacle  was  presented.  Poor  Robert  lay  in 
his  father's  arms,  his  pale  face  spotted  with 
blood,  which  was  still  streaming  from  a  deep 
gash  in  the  forehead.  His  clothes  were  torn 
into  strips  in  the  struggle  to  detain  him  ;  while 
his  father  was  frightfully  pale,  and  almost  sense- 
less as  himself.  Victor  loosened  the  poor  boy's 
vest,  and  he  respired  faintly.  The  sufferer  was 
soon  conveyed  to  a  neighboring  hotel  by  the 
attentive  strangers,  who  called  a  physician ; 
while  Victor  ran  home  for  Mrs.  Gray  and  Ed- 
nah.  A  carriage  fortunately  stood  at  the  cor- 
ner ;  and  they  were  not  long  in  reaching  the 
place. 


THF.    MECHANIC.  135 

I  pass  over  the  particulars  of  this  scene ;  for 
what  pen  —  what  art  can  delineate  truly,  the 
bitterness  of  a  mother's  and  a  sister's  anguish, 
when,  not  only  the  physical  life  of  the  dearly 
loved,  though  erring  one,  is  seen  to  hang  on 
the  merest  thread  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  there 
is  felt,  within  this,  a  moral  death,  infinitely  more 
frightful  —  infinitely  more  heart-rending. 

The  poor  boy  was  pronounced  unfit  to 
move  that  night.  Indeed,  on  examination, 
the  contusion,  and  the  cut,  were  found  much 
worse  than  they  had  at  first  appeared  to  be. 
Sorrow,  heavier  and  bitterer  than  the  sorrow  of 
death,  gathered  upon  that  little  band  of  watch- 
ers, as  they  hovered  round  the  sufferer,  who 
continued  wild  and  restless  through  the  night, 
notwithstanding  a  powerful  anodyne  had  been 
tdmioistered  ;  and  in  the  morning  he  was  found 
to  be  in  a  decided  brain  fever.  For  several 
days  he  lay  in  a  state  of  extreme  danger.  At 
times  he  raved  frightfully,  calling  for  Victor, 
and  his  forgiveness,  in  the  most  moving 

terms  ;  then,  telling  him  to  beware  of  Rankin. 
On  tin;  eveiiini:  of  the  fifth  day  of  his  illness, 
he  lay  in  a  profound  sleep,  which  had  lasted 
for  several  hours.  Not  a  breath  could  he  heard 
in  the  room,  so  intense  was  the  anxiety  with 
which  all  were  watching  the  event  of  hi> 


136  THE    MECHANIC. 

waking  ;  for  the  physician  had  pronounced  the 
crisis  at  hand ;  and  he,  himself,  had  waited 
with  the  afflicted  friends.  If  the  last  medicine 
given  proved  to  have  a  good  effect,  the  turn 
would  be  favorable ;  if  not,  he  assured  the 
family  they  must  be  prepared  for  immediate 
death  :  and  the  intense  interest  he  manifested, 
showed  that  his  fears  were  stronger  than  his 
hopes.  The  patient  stirred  slightly.  All  gath- 
ered softly  round  the  bed.  The  physician  was 
holding  his  pulse.  By  his  side  stood  Mr. 
Gray  ;  on  the  opposite  side  Mrs.  Gray  and 
Ednah  ;  while  poor  little  Annie,  with  Victor, 
stood  at  the  foot.  Robert  slowly  opened  his 
eyes,  as  if  oppressed  with  extreme  weakness  ; 
but  the  wild  light  of  insanity  was  gone.  He 
was  perfectly  conscious  ;  and  a  look  of  recog- 
nition slowly  passed  from  one  to  another.  He 
made  a  faint  attempt  to  lift  his  arms  to  his 
mother,  who  hung  over  him,  in  the  intensity  of 
maternal  anguish  ;  but  he  could  not.  Mrs. 
Gray  could  resist  no  longer  ;  but,  sinking  be- 
side her  son,  she  strained  him  to  her  heart ; 
and  the  first  tears  she  had  shed  during  his  ill- 
ness, gushed  over,  and  bathed  his  burning 
cheeks  and  forehead.  The  physician  gently 
interposed  ;  and,  leading  her  from  the  room, 
beckoned  to  the  weeping  sisters  to  follow.  As 


THE     MECHANIC.  137 

the  door  closed,  Robert  looked  earnestly  at  his 
father.  Mr.  Gray  bent  his  ear  close  to  him, 
and  he  whispered  feebly  ;  "  Father,  if  I  die, 
let  Victor  be  your  son.  He  will  be  better  than 
I  have  ever  been.  O,  if  I  had  only  listened  to 
him  !  "  He  paused,  with  a  groan  so  deep,  so 
bitter,  it  seemed  to  be  wrung  from  his  inmost 
soul  ;  then  added,  "  Father,  he  would  have 
saved  my  life  ;  but  he  has  saved  my  soul.  I 
have  not  been  unconscious  for  the  last  —  I 
know  not  how  long  —  it  seems  an  eternity  — 
but  my  mind  has  been  busy  with  itself,  I  trust 
I  have  repented.  If  I  live,  I  shall  be  a  differ- 
ent person.  If  I  die,  I  shall  die  happy  !  Fa- 
ther, tell  mother,  tell  my  sisters,  how  much  I 
owe  Victor,  that  they  —  "  Apparently  in  the 
!:i-t  effort  of  exhausted  nature,  he  stretched 
himself  back  ;  and,  for  a  moment,  they  thought 
that  he  had  ceased  to  breathe. 

The  physician  took  his  hand  ;  and,  after  an 
in-iant  of  agonizing  suspense,  announced  that 
hi>  pulse  beat  —  feebly,  indeed,  but  gently: 
by  which  he  knew  that  the  crisis  had  passed 
by.  After  several  hours  of  sleep,  so  deep  and 
tranquil  it  seemed  almost  breathless,  he  awoke, 
enquired  for  his  friends,  and  embraced  them  all 
alleetionately  ;  but  when  he  came  to  Victor, 
the  poor  boy  clung  round  his  neck,  and  \n-> 
12* 


138  THE    MECHANIC. 

tears  poured  out  like  rain.  "  Go, "  he  whis- 
pered, "  Leave  me ;  I  cannot  bear  this  now. " 
The  physician  requested  all  but  his  sister  Ed- 
nah  to  leave  the  room  ;  and,  having  adminis- 
tered some  slight  nourishment,  he  withdrew. 

When  the  Angel  of  Mercy  gives  back  our 
cherished  one  from  the  arms  of  Death,  there  is 
a  holy  rapture  of  the  soul,  so  exquisitely  ten- 
der, so  hallowed,  that  it  approaches  perhaps, 
more  nearly  to  the  joys  of  pure,  disembodied 
spirit,  than  any  other  human  emotion  ;  for  the 
mind  becomes  exalted  and  strengthened,  by  a 
closer  communion  with  the  spiritual,  both  with- 
in, and  exterior  to  itself;  and,  casting  aside  the 
vapor,  misnamed  reality,  it  passes  through  the 
Superficial,  and  arrives  at  the  Actual.  High, 
then,  must  its  joys  be  ;  and  akin  to  the  rapture 
of  Heaven,  when,  going  up,  as  it  were,  into  the 
immediate  presence  of  its  Father,  to  whom  it 
had  consigned,  with  perfect  confidence,  its  be- 
loved, it  receives  back  again  the  treasure,  with 
the  assurance  of  renewed  life,  as  from  the  very 
lips  of  God.  Does  not  such  a  state  of  the 
soul  give  an  earnest  of  the  final  triumph  over 
Death  ? 

In  a  few  days  from  this  time  Robert  was 
removed  home ;  and  as  he  began  to  amend,  the 
most  favorable  change  was  observable  in  his 


THE    MECHANIC.  139 

character.  Ho  was  thoughtful,  gentle,  kind  ; 
while  his  affection  for  Victor  seemed  absolutely 
without  bounds.  He  was  uneasy  if  the  latter 
left  him,  even  for  a  short  time  ;  for  he  began 
to  perceive  the  beauty  and  truthfulness  of  his 
character  ;  and  he  seemed  to  be  conscious  of 
gathering  strength  by  associating  with  him. 
With  a  pleased  eye  his  friends  marked  this  pre- 
dilection ;  for  Robert  being  of  an  exceedingly 
ductile  character  ;  it  was  more  essential  to  his 
\vell-l>eiii'_r,  than  to  that  of  many  others,  that 
his  friends  should  be  true,  both  to  him,  and  to 
themselves. 

As  he  gathered  increasing  strength,  his  moth- 
er most  tenderly,  yet  earnestly  —  zealously  — 
endeavored  to  set  the  truth  before  him.  She 
carefully  unfolded  to  him  the  power  of  habit, 
and  the  consequences  of  sin.  No  reproach 
fell  from  her  lips  ;  yet  she  spared  neither  the 
offence,  nor  the  offender  ;  and  she  soon  cher- 
ished a  reasonable  hope,  that  her  son  had  been 
arrested  in  his  desperate  course,  to  go  no  more 
astray. 

Victor,  on   his   part,  was   imremittini:    in    his 

attentions    to    the    invalid.       He    spent    every 

leisure  moment   in   his  chamber.      He  read   to 

him,  collected  for  him  all   the  little  inteiv-tini: 

:\.  and  taught  him  a   variety  of 


140  THE    MECHANIC. 

amusing  games  ;  until,  after  a  long,  and  very 
gradual  convalescence,  Robert  began  to  feel 
well  again.  Then  how  grateful  was  he  to 
those  who  had  so  gently  won  him  back!  Some- 
times he  would  look  upon  the  happy  faces  of 
those 'about  him,  thinking  how  much  anguish 
he  had  caused  them,  until  the  tears  gushed  into 
his  eyes,  and  he  would  be  obliged  to  leave  the 
room. 

The  next  day  after  Robert's  accident  Ran- 
kin  made  his  appearance ;  and  was  by  Mr. 
Gray,  paid  off,  and  dismissed  from  his  service 
—  an  act  of  justice  to  his  son,  which,  if  it  had 
been  done  before,  would  have  saved  them  all 
much  sorrow. 

Through  the  spring  and  summer  nothing  of 
importance  occurred.  Mr.  Filbrook,'  who  re- 
sided with  his  oldest  daughter,  about  20  miles 
from  the  city,  often  visited  them,  with  Mr.  Har- 
rison. Both  of  these  gentlemen  continued  to 
feel,  and  to  express,  the  strongest  interest  in  the 
welfare  of  Victor.  They  lent  him  many  valu- 
able books  ;  and,  in  their  society,  his  character 
expanded  into  the  fair  and  noble  proportions  of 
perfect  manhood.  He  and  Robert  became  like 
very  brothers.  They  were  almost  inseparable  ; 
and  the  improvement  of  the  latter  justified  the 
most  sanguine  hopes  of  his  friends. 


THE    MECHANIC.  141 

"  There  is  one  thing  more  to  do, "  said 
Robert,  as  he  threw  himself  on  the  sofa  ;  after 
having  taken  a  longer  walk  than  usual ;  "  there 
is  one  thing  more,  father.  I  wish  you  to  have 
my  name  stricken  from  the  books  of  the  DRIXK- 
IN-SPITE-OF-THE-DEVIL  SOCIETY.  " 

All  looked  at  each  other  with  a  curious  ex- 
pression, half  comic,  half  sad,  as  Robert  drew 
forth  a  badge  inscribed  with  the  mystic  char- 
acters. 

"  I  have  often  thought  1  would  ask  you, " 
said  Victor,  the  meaning  of  those  initials. " 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  have  mentioned  the 
name,  as  it  is  a  secret, "  said  Robert,  "  but  I 
have  so  long  been  free  from  the  thraldom  of  my 
former  tyrants,  that  I  really  forgot  myself. 
But  I  would  still  be  honorable.  I  know  there 
are  none  here  who  would  take  an  ungenerous 
advantage  of  my  inadvertency.  Here,  father," 
he  continued,  giving  the  badge,  "  you  will 

please  take  this  to  Mr.  ,  the  president  of 

the  soriety.  with  my  abdication.  I  lux-  also  is 
a  letter,  which  I  \\ish  them  to  read  at  one  of 
their  meetings,  if  agreeable.  I  expect  to  work 
no  miracle  of  reformation  ;  but  if  it  arou>< 
good  thought  —  one  pure,  hone<t  f- el  ing,  I 
shall  not  have  written  in  vain.  And  do,  father, 
enquire  if  they  know  any  thing  of  George.  I 


142  THE     MECHANIC. 

believe  I  am  now  strong  enough,  both  in  body 
and  mind,  to  see  him.  There  is  good  in  him, 
father  !  I  know  there  is  good  in  him  !  I  loved 
him,  and  cannot  bear  that  he  should  be  lost !  " 
The  poor  boy  covered  his  face  with  his  hands, 
and  wept  bitterly  ! 

"  O,  you  don't  know,  "  he  continued,  "  you 
have  no  conception  of  the  anguish,  and  the 
remorse,  of  the  drunkard  !  Sometimes  it  used 
to  seem  as  if  a  living  serpent  was  gnawing 
within  me  —  as  if  unquenchable  fire  was  burn- 
'ing  at  my  very  vitals  !  I  want  to  tell  all  my 
old  companions  how  happy  I  am  now  !  I  want 
to  tell  Rankin  of  the  peace  and  joy,  which 
passeth  all  understanding,  —  except  to  the  peni- 
tent, and  reformed  inebriate  !  O,  mother,  father, 
and  dear,  dear  Victor  !  you  may  think  I  am  un- 
grateful for  all  your  kindness,  because  I  do  not 
say  much  ;  but  when  I  look  at  you,  sometimes, 
it  seems  as  if  my  heart  would  burst,  with  its 
gratitude,  and  its  love  !  and  when  I  feel  so 
much,  I  cannot  speak  !  "  He  sprang  from  the 
sofa ;  and,  clinging  round  his  mother's  neck,  he 
sobbed  so  fearfully,  so  convulsively,  that  they  re- 
ally feared  that  it  might  induce  a  relapse  of  fever. 
But  no  one  could  speak  to  calm  him  ;  for  all, 
father,  sisters,  and  Victor,  pressed  around  him, 
on  their  very  knees,  and  wept.  But  these  tears 


THE    MECHANIC.  143 

were  healthful.  They  were  such  as  the  Re- 
deemed miidit  shed  over  tho  returning  sinner. 
This  was  the  first  passionate  burst  of  feeling 
Rohert  had  given  way  to  since  his  illness. 

"  I  shall  feel  better  now  ; "  he  said,  after  the 
violence  of  the  struggle  was  over.  "  These 
thoughts  and  feeling  have  been  long  lying  here 
—  they  have  pressed  upon  my  heart,  as  with  a 
leaden  weight.  But  now  I  am  relieved.  Moth- 
er—  mo/her  —  often  when  you  have  been  talk- 
in  <_r  to  me  I  could  not  speak  ;  for  my  heart  was 
too  full  —  but  you  will  believe  me,  now —  that 
1  am  truly  penitent  —  that  I  will,  from  this 
hour,  strive  to  the  utmost  of  my  power  —  to 
be  what  you  wish  me  —  to  be  ALL  you  wish 
me.  I  know  I  am  forgiven  ;  but  I  now  feel  it 
a  duty,  both  to  myself,  and  to  you,  to  ask  your 
for  .  I  have  often  deceived  and  diso- 

beyed you — I  have  followed  cour.-es  which  I 
knew  would  overwhelm  you  with  anguish." 
He  drew  himself  from  his  mother's  arms  ;  and, 
embracing,  he  ahked  the  pardon  of  eacli  indi- 
vidual :  which,  you  may  be  sure,  was  given  — 
with  hle-ini:-.  and  \\ith  t- 

But  when  he.  rame  to  Victor,  he  said,  "This 
is  the  hardest.      How  shall  I  ask  you  to  for 

.   my   more   than   brother !    my  friend  !    my 
pr<  .vhen   I  remember  that    I   have  in- 


144  THE    MECHANIC. 

suited  you,  ridiculed  you,  cursed  you,  and 
joined  in  repeated  plots  to  ruin  you  ;  and,  all 
this,  not  only  without  offence  on  your  part,  but 
in  defiance  of  the  most  persevering,  and  entirely 
undeserved  kindness.  O,  Victor  !  I  do  not 
wish  to  think  you  are  guilty  of  wrong  ;  but  if  I 
could  remember  one  ungenerous  act  of  yours, 
my  reflections  would  not  be  half  so  bitter ! 
Will  you  —  can  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

Victor  struggled  with  himself  to  speak  calm- 
ly. "  I  have  nothing  to  forgive  ; "  he  said  ; 
but  he  could  say  no  more.  The  two  embraced, 
and  wept  in  each  other's  arms. 

"  I  have  a  word  to  speak, "  said  Mr.  Gray, 
as  Robert  was  led,  quite  exhausted,  to  the  sofa. 
"  I  have  neglected  a  father's  duty,  I  now  clear- 
ly see.  Forgive  me,  my  son.  I  have  erred 
greatly  —  sinfully.  I  trust  I  shall  do  so  no 
more.  "  He  withdrew  hurriedly  from  the  room  ; 
and,  after  a  time,  calmness  was  restored. 

Nothing  could  be  found  of  Rankin.  It  was 
supposed  he  had  left  the  city  ;  and,  for  a  long 
time,  nothing  was  heard  of  him. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"  Onward,  onward,  will  wo  press 
Through  the  path  of  duty  ; 

VlRTPK    IS    TRUE    HAPPINESS, 

EXCEI.I.KXCK    TRUE    BEAUTY   ', 

Delve  we  now  for  richer  gems 
Than  the  stars  of  diadems.  " 

MOHTGOMERY. 

"  Victor, "  said  Mr.  Gray,  as  they  rose  from 
the  breakfast  table,  one  morning  in  the  begin- 
ning of  winter  ;  ''  I  want  to  speak  with  you 
a  few  minutes.  Go  to  my  chamber,  if  you 
please  ;  I  will  be  there  in  a  moment.  ': 

"  You  know,  I  suppose,  "  said  Mr.  Gray,  as 
he  entered,  and  shut  the  door,  "  that  by  the 
terms  of  my  agreement  with  your  mother,  I  am 
to  give  you  six  months  of  schooling,  in  addition 
to  that  you  have  already  had.  Now  I  am  so 
well  assured  of  your  good  influence  over  my 
son,  that  I  wi>h  you  to  attend  school  with  him. 
Therefore  I  shall  not  send  you  to  the  public 
school.  You  are  now  nineteen,  I  believe  ;  ami 
you  will  attend  to  such  studies  as  will  be  most 
useful  to  you,  in  the  business  you  intend  to  fol- 
13 


146  THE     MECHANIC. 

low.  I  owe  this  to  you,  Victor  ;  and  more 
than  this.  Indeed,  I  shall  always  feel  that  any 
opportunity  to  serve  you,  will  be  a  privilege  ; 
for  never,  never,  Victor,  shall  I  cease  to  be  in- 
debted to  you.  "  He  paused  as  if  utterance 
were  checked  by  strong  feeling  ;  and  then  ad- 
ded, "  You  are  very  near,  and  dear  to  me, 
Victor.  You  have  talents  of  a  high  order. 
You  will  rise  to  eminence  in  your  business  ; 
and  a  proud  thought  will  it  be  to  me,  that  I 
have  so  far  served  my  country,  and  the  age  in 
which  I  live,  as  to  have  been  of  the  smallest 
assistance  to  you. " 

Victor  was  more  touched  by  the  kind  expres- 
sion of  esteem,  and  encouragement,  than  by  the 
extravagance  of  the  eulogy. 

"Mr.  Wilmot,  the  teacher,  I  have  chosen  fop 
you, "  resumed  the  other,  "  is  a  proficient  in 
drawing,  and  thoroughly  understands  the  sci- 
ence of  Architecture.  He  has  been  a  practi- 
cal mechanic  ;  but  was  obliged,  on  account  of 
ill  health,  to  relinquish  the  practice  of  the  art 
he  loved,  for  a  less  laborious  profession  ;  and 
may  his  mantle  fall  upon  you,  my  dear  boy. " 

"  I  hope  I  shall  be  grateful,  as  I  ought  to  be ; 
returned  the  delighted  youth.  "  Indeed,  I  think 
my  happiness  —  my  good  fortune  — is  greater 
than  I  deserve. " 


THE     MECII  \MC. 


147 


The  good  which  our  own  merit  fairly  earns, 
should  not  be  called  fortune,  Victor.  I  believe, 
unless  the  event  becomes  inverted  by  accident, 
that  good  causes  will  always  produce  good  ef- 
fects. You  have  earned  all  I  can  do  for  you  — 
and  more  —  nobly  earned  it.  But  if  you  think 
there  is  yet  any  thing  due  to  me,  shew  your 
gratitude  in  the  improvement  you  make  —  in 
the  example  you  <_rive.  Your  term  commences 
on  Monday.  " 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  delight  of  Robert 
when  he  learned  this  arrangement.  He  sang, 
danced,  embraced  his  father,  kissed  his  mother 
and  sisters  ;  and,  finally,  put  the  climax  on  his 
-.  by  turning  a  complete  wait/,  with  the 
happy  Victor  ;  bumming  all  the  while,  to  the 
nni-ic  of  his  own  grateful  and  loving  heart: 

'  "  \Vf  liavr  lii'i-n  .•'•ml  togelluT, 
Oil  !   \\  hat  shall   part  us  IM\V. 

The  school  into  which  our  hero  was  intro- 
duced \\;i.s  composed  of  youth  bi'lniuring  to 
the  very  (file  of  the  city  ;  but  Mr.  Gray  had 
taken  care  that  lh»  teach  •;-,  at  h  a,t.  should  be 
favoiali'  d  towards  the  apprentice  boy. 

Those  who  wen-  at  first  inclined  to  (real  him 
with  contempt  soon  found  that  he  was  fully 
able  to  -iHta'm  him-elf  ;  and  that  he  stood  upon 
more  than  equal  terms  with  the  very  best  of 


148  THE     MECHANIC. 

them  ;  and  Mr.  Wilmot  himself  was  not  long 
in  perceiving  that  his  new  pupil  had  character 
and  genius  of  no  common  order.  Some  there 
were,  who,  for  a  time  attempted  to  look  down 
upon  our  hero  ;  but  he  was  always  so  lofty  in 
his  own  consciousness  of  right — so  perfectly 
erect  and  true-hearted,  as  to  render  this  exceed- 
ingly difficult.  Victor  was  too  entirely  engaged 
in  his  own  pursuits  to  heed  them  ;  and  when 
obliged  to  notice  any  thing,  he  cast  aside  their 
futile  attempts  at  ridicule,  with  as  much  quiet 
dignity  as  was  manifested  by  Uncle  Toby, 
when  he  brushed  the  impertinent  fly  from  his 
nose.  He  did  not,  for  some  time,  attempt  to 
join  in  their  sports  ;  but  during  recess,  enquired 
more  particularly  into  his  lessons,  conversed 
with  his  teacher,  or  took  a  short  walk  with 
Robert,  who  generously  determined  to  share 
his  friend's  fortune,  whatever  it  might  be. 
There  was  a  gymnasium  at  the  academy  of  his 
native  village  ;  and  in  every  exercise  taught 
there,  Victor  had  excelled  ;  but  now,  if  he 
went  out  with  the  boys  at  all,  he  was  content 
to  be  a  quiet  spectator  ;  for  he  saw  that  some 
of  them  considered  him  an  inferior  ;  and,  being 
a  stranger,  his  own  pride  compelled  him  to 
keep  aloof,  until  their  opinion  should  be  cor- 
rected. 


THE   MECHANIC.  149 

However,  the  little  state  within  a  well  con- 
ducted school  (I  say  WELL  conducted)  must  be 
a  Republic  ;  for  there  every  one  must  stand 
upon  the  foundation  of  his  own  merits,  and 
upon  nothing  else.  Our  scholars,  too,  are  gen- 
erally, pure  democrats,  except  perhaps  the  mere 
shadow  of  some  prejudices  caught  at  home  : 
for  the  very  reason,  that,  from  their  age,  the} 
have  not,  as  yet,  been  called  upon  to  set  their 
names  in  the  False  Statute  Book  which  the 
world  imposes.  They  have  not,  as  yet,  sur- 
rendered their  honest  individuality,  to  be  shaped 
according  to  the  selfish  policy  of  ambitious,  but 
narrow-souled  parents,  in  the  distorted  mould  of 
Fashion.  They  have  not  as  yet  bowed  them- 
selves down,  and  laid  the  rights  of  Free  Will, 
of  Independent  Thought  and  Action,  upon  the 
altar  of  the  Modern  Dagon,  FASHIONABLE  So- 
(.  IJ:TY.  which,  like  the  fabled  Hydra,  thrusts 
forth  its  many  heads,  hissing  now  this  way, 
now  that,  at  every  thing  which  has  one  particle 
of  Nature,  or  of  Truth. 

Character  will,  sooner  or  later,  always  assert 
its  proper  sway,  and  attain  its  just  due  ;  and 
the  tendency  to  this  will  be  strong,  in  propor- 
tion to  the  truthfulness  of  the  parties.  Now 
this  state  —  (that  of  truthfulness)  to  our  shame 
btj  it  spoken  —  is,  and  I  fear  must  be  for  a  long 
13* 


150  THE     MECHANIC. 

time,  purest  in  tbe  young.  Therefore  it  was 
not  long  before  Victor  was  not  only  admitted 
as  an  equal,  but  welcomed  as  a  favorite. 

The  character  of  Robert,  thus  intimately  and 
lovingly  subjected,  as  it  was,  to  good  influences, 
began  to  be  developed  in  an  entirely  new,  and 
most  favorable  direction.  He  had  always  been 
remarkable  for  great  quickness  of  parts,  which 
enabled  him,  hitherto,  with  very  slight  applica- 
tion, to  hold  an  equal  place  among  his  young 
competitors  ;  but  now  that  he  was  warmed  by 
a  newly  created  taste  —  a  pure  love  of  science, 
and  nerved  by  conscience,  to  redeem  the  time, 
and  the  character,  he  had  thrown  away,  and 
lost  ;  his  progress  was  truly  astonishing.  But 
with  these  habits,  was  developed,  also,  a  ten- 
dency to  disease,  founded  in  the  delicate  organ- 
ization, which  is  too  often  the  concomitant  of 
genius  ;  that,  along  with  the  pride,  the  admira- 
tion of  his -friends,  awoke,  also,  their  most  anx- 
ious fears. 

It  may  be  proper  to  mention  here  that  the 
promise  made  to  the  venerable  Mr.  Handy, 
was  redeemed.  Parkhurst,  either  through  fear 
or  shame,  was  prevailed  upon  to  pay  the  whole 
debt  he  owed  him  ;  and  the  money  was  care- 
fully deposited  by  Mr.  Filbrook.  Nor  was  this 
all ;  the  family  of  the  good  old  man,  his  worthy 


THE     MECHANIC.  151 

wife,  and  lovely  grandaughter,  were  called  upon 
li  Mr-,  and  Miss  Gray,  and  invited  to  visit 
them  —  not  in  a  patronizing,  but  in  a  truly 
social  and  friendly  manner  ;  for  it  was  a  princi- 
ple with  them  —  nay  it  was  a  spontaneous 
mode  of  action  —  to  encourage,  and  love,  and 
honor,  real  goodness,  irrespective  of  the  acci- 
dental circumstances  which  might  surround  it. 

The  winter,  in  passing,  left  its  full  fruition 
of  good  to  our  hero.  With  a  craving  earnest- 
ness of  appetite  for  knowledge,  he  gathered  up 
even  the  fragments  ;  and  nothing  was  lost. 
But  as  the  reasoning  powers  were  more  and 
more  developed,  his  Religious  Belief  hecame 
somewhat  unsettled.  Many  things  which  had 
always  appeared  well  established,  now  seemed 
doubtful.  In  longing  earnestness  of  soul  he 
sought  the  Reasons  of  many  things  ;  but  no 
satisfying  response  came  from  the  deep  chasm 
of  Doubt,  which  he  had  uncovered  within  him- 
self. Yet  in  this,  also,  he  was  true  ;  and  the 
whole  process  of  emnJry  was  so  gradual,  that, 
for  a  long  time,  it  did  not  all,  or  at  least  sensi- 
bly, all'tct  his  happiness.  It  was  merely  the 
action  of  a  strong  and  energetic  mind  seeking 
the  seal  and  signature  of  Truth  ;  yet  in  doing 
this  penetrating,  it  may  be  thought  by  the 


152  THE    MECHANIC. 

common  mind,  somewhat  too  deeply  scanning, 
perhaps,  somewhat  too  closely.  It  should  be 
remembered,  in  pronouncing  upon  the  honest 
Doubter,  that  what  is  conviction  to  one  mind, 
can,  by  no  means,  be  such  to  another  ;  and 
this  last  may  be,  in  all  things,  by  far  the  higher 
order.  The  grand  mischief  with  the  mass  of 
unbelievers  is,  that  they  are  NOT  honest  —  that 
they  are  not  seeking  Truth,  but  Error  —  that 
they  do  not,  conscientiously,  wish  to  find  out, 
and  embrace  the  True  ;  but  merely  to  pick 
out  flaws  and  patches  on  the  fair  face  of  Real- 
ity, watching  always,  lest,  peradventure,  False- 
hood may  be  concealed  there  ;  which  is  a  spirit 
of  Paul-Pryism  so  entirely  unworthy  the  mo- 
mentous question  it  is  brought  to  bear  upon, 
that  it  can  never  result  in  good  :  neither  will  it 
ever  be  practised  by  the  true,  honest,  upright 
soul.  But  of  these  things  no  man  may  judge 
of  his  brother  ;  but  only  of  himself ;  for  has 
not  each  a  Thought,  and  a  Conscience  of  his 
own  ;  and  who  shall  say  if  he  be  true  to  these, 
or  not,  save  himself  only  ?  If  he  be  true,  shall 
he  not  stand?  And  if  he  be  NOT  true,  let  us 
leave  him  with  an  Unerring  and  Righteous 
Judge.  The  sanctuary  of  another  man's  Opin- 
ion, no  foreign  power  has  a  right  to  invade  ; 


THE    MECHANIC.  153 

but  let  us  each  look  to  his  own,  and  measure, 
and  weigh  it,  carefully  ;  to  see  if  its  propor- 
tions are  just  — to  learn  if  it  be  true. 

We  now  pass  over  a  gap  of  several  years. 
Tlii^r  had  gone  by  clad  in  the  variously  cheq- 
uered garments  of  weal  and  wo,  which  this 
Proteus- World  is  wont  to  fashion.  The  ripen- 
ed manhood  of  Victor  had  more  than  redeemed 
die  promise  of  his  early  youth.  With  mind, 
and  heart,  and  feelings,  strong,  deep-toned,  and 
vigorous  —  with  physical,  mental,  and  moral 
capabilities,  developed  in  due  proportion,  came, 
naturally  enough  associated,  genius  of  a  high 
and  healthy  order.  Regarding  labor  not  only 
as  a  duty,  but  as  a  privilege  and  blessing  — 
being  that  condition  which  is  absolutely  essen- 
tial to  the  developement  of  the  perfect  man  — 
lir  lo\vd  his  art,  and  labored  in  it  with  the 
fervor  of  a  free  and  true  soul.  A  few  noble 
spirits,  who,  having  detected  the  Reality  in 
theniM-lves,  were  capable  of  understanding  and 
appreciating  it  in  others,  were  gathered  about 
him  —  a  charm-ed  circle,  wherein  the  morning 
Sun  of  Truth,  shone,  with  the  promise  of  yet 
reveal! n"  himself  in  the,  fulness  of  his  noontide 

O 

splendor  !  For  there  are  a  few,  thank  Heaven! 
a  noble  few!  even  now  —  even  here  —  who 
have  not  bowed  down  to  the  popular  Divinities 


154  THE     MECHANIC. 

of  Fashion,  nor  worshipped  the  Images  which 
are  set  up  in  the  temple  of  the  modern  Baal  — 
ARISTOCRACY.  These  have  not  offered  the 
God-enkindled  incense  of  their  MANHOOD,  be- 
fore an  Indian  Ship,  a  Yard-stick,  a  Gallipot,  a 
bundle  of  Briefs  ;  nor  even  a  Pulpit-Cushion  ! 
A  few  there  are  who  now  believe  what  the 
Many  —  what  All  must,  ere  long,  believe  and 
see  —  that  the  Living  Spirit  of  Man,  which 
God  fashioned,  is  better  than  a  heap  of  Yellow 
Dust,  though  it  bear  the  name  of  Gold  —  better 
than  a  pile  of  Brick  and  Mortar,  though  it  rise 
above  the  height  of  Babel — better  than  any 
square  measure,  pf  Earth,  be  it  small  or  great  ; 
believing  this,  they  have  no  place  in  their  affec- 
tions for  perishable  matter  ;  but  grasp  with  the 
far-reaching  arms  of  undying  Love  the  one 
Actual  Truth  —  THE  BROTHER  SOUL  !  Can 
such  a  one  feel  any  resentment  towards  the 
poor  mistaken  one,  who  undervalues,  possibly 
despises  him,  simply  because  he  cannot  reach 
—  he  does  not  know  him  ?  Who  would  not 
pity  that  visual  hallucination,  which  could  mis- 
take the  dark  spots,  or  even  the  brilliant  clouds 
which  sometimes  overshadow  the  Sun,  for  the 
Sun  himself? 

Beautiful,  in  its  entire  truth,  and  trustingness, 
was  the  friendship  between  Victor  and  Robert ; 


THE    MECHANIC*  155 

and  with  singular  felicity  were  the  excesses  of 
one  character,  adapted  to  the  wants  of  the 
other.  The  genius  of  Victor  was,  unquestion- 
ably, of  the  most  healthy  and  vigorous  order  ; 
for  his  mind  was  more  truly  balanced  than  that 
of  Robert  ;  but  he  had  not  the  far-reaching 
imagination  which  distinguished  the  latter  ; 
while  lie  had  the  great  advantage  of  superior 
reasoning  and  controlling  power.  Robert  had, 
in  short,  the  loftiest  poetic  feeling  —  not  that 
he  wrote  verses,  for  to  the  deep,  and  wild,  and 
beautiful  Thoughts  within  him,  no  words  could 
give  utterance.  He  wrote  not,  indeed,  but  he 
interpreted — he  read  —  he  felt  —  what  is  writ- 
ten in  the  Book  of  Nature,  which  was  to  him 
an  infinite  Volume  of  Mystery  and  Beauty. 
The  loftiest  and  the  purest  poetry,  though  it 
has  never  been  written,  yet  it  cannot  be  lost  ; 
but  when  the  grossness  of  mortality  shall  have 
melted  away,  it  will  be  revealed,  wrought  upon 
the  elements  of  tin-  undying  soul,  in  the  mystic 
characters  of  Eternity. 

Though  Robert  seldom  attempted  to  embody 
his  thoughts,  lie  created  to  himself  a  world  of 
free  and  happy  existences  —  of  pure  and  exalt- 
ed spirits  — until  his  own  soul,  won,  as  it  were, 
from  the  Sensual,  and  absorbed  in  the  Spiritual, 
held  by  a  very  slight  tenure,  the  bond  which  is 


156  THE    MECHANIC. 

miscalled  Life.  Meanwhile  his  health  was  so 
delicate  that  no  profession  was  even  thought 
of  ;  until,  at  length,  a  voyage  at  sea  was  pre- 
scribed by  the  physician,  whom  his  anxious 
friends  had  consulted,  as  the  only  probable 
means  of  saving,  or  even  of  prolonging  his  exis- 
tence. Then  it  was  that  the  long  cherished 
hope  of  Victor  —  that  of  studying  the  deeper 
mysteries  of  his  art  among  the  classic  models  of 
Greece  and  Rome — ripened  into  a  determina- 
tion. He  had,  during  the  two  years  of  his 
majority,  accumulated  a  sufficient  sum  to  defray 
his  expenses  —  and,  prompted  alike  by  friend- 
ship, and  the  hope  of  improvement,  he  gladly 
accepted  Mr.  Gray's  earnest  request  for  him  to 
accompany  his  son.  In  short,  the  voyage  was 
determined  on,  and  the  passage  engaged  :  but 
we  must  go  back  to  a  period  about  six  months 
prior  to  this,  in  order  to  relate  circumstances 
which  are  essential  to  our  story  :  all  —  or  a 
part  of  which  may  be  found  in  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

"  If  to  her  share  some  female  errors  fall, 
Look  on  her  face,  and  you'll  forget  them  all.  " 

POPE. 

WITH  your  permission,  gentle  reader,  we 
introduce  again  our  old  friend,  Thomas  Stan- 
ton  ;  not  now  a  green  boy,  but  a  full-fashioned 
man  ;  and  what  is  more,  to  most  persons,  a 
physician  of  high  standing  and  great  promise  ; 
he  having  changed  the  profession  of  the  Law 
for  that  of  Medicine.  It  was  plain  that  some 
serious  reflections  occupied  his  mind,  as  he 
passed  through  the  busy  streets  of  M.,  which, 
from  a  small  manufacturing  village,  had  rapidly 
grown  to  be  a  thronged  and  populous  town. 
The  locality  of  M.  was,  or  rather  had  been, 
one  of  those  quiet,  picturesque  spots,  where 
the  wood-nymph  might  wreathe  her  bower 
seeing  nought  to  make  her  afraid,  or  the 
Naiad  gern  her  grotto,  hearing  nought  but  the 
liquid  melodies  of  her  own  delicious  warblings, 
accompanied  by  the  ever-breathing  harmony  of 
her  tributary  waters.  But  the  envious  eye  of 
14 


158  THE    MECHANIC. 

Utility  saw  only  a  fall  in  the  dashing  and  foam- 
ing waters  ;  when  lo !  as  if  at  the  touch  of  an 
enchanter's  wand,  huge  piles  of  brick  and  stone 
arose  amid  the  beauty  —  man  usurped  the  do- 
minion of  Nature,  setting  up  his  works  where 
had  been  only  those  of  God ;  and  his  clanking 
hammers,  and  sounding  anvils,  and  dashing 
wheels  profaned  the  lovely  solitude.  The  syl- 
van deities  fled,  giving  place  to  mere  spinners 
and  weavers,  and  the  banks  where  naiades  had 
sported  became  thronged  with  pale  and  meager 
children,  whose  tufted  locks,  and  linty  garments, 
told  they  were  of  that  unfortunate,  but,  as  it  is 
believed,  necessary  class  of  wights,  who  minister 
in  cotton  mills.  In  short  our  village  was  fast 
getting  to  be  a  town  of  no  mean  aspect ;  and 
among  those  who  had  grown  up,  and  strength- 
ened with  it,  one  of  the  most  fortunate  was 
Anthony  Thompson,  Esq.  This  gentleman,  in 
early  youth,  had  been  apprenticed  to  a  black- 
smith, in  whose  business  he  became  a  proficient. 
Afterwards  he  added  the  machine-making  busi- 
ness to  his  original  calling :  and,  subsequently, 
be  entered  largely  into  manufactures  ;  in  which 
he  was  successful  beyond  his  most  sanguine 
hopes.  At  the  age  of  fifty  he  had  the  singular 
good  fortune  (so  the  lady,  herself,  then,  and 
afterwards,  assured  him)  to  find,  what  is  so 


THF.     MKfHANlC.  159 

seldom  found  hero,  a  young  lady  of  family. 
So,  he  married  the  daughter  of  an  unfortunate 
English  gentleman,  who  died  on  a  visit  to  this 
country,  leaving  his  t\vo  daughters  penniless. 
Young,  I  said  the  lady  was  —  so  she  called 
herself;  though  on  the  verge  of  forty;  and 
with  JUT  came  a  sister  some  five  or  six  years 
younger,  who  had  not  married,  as  she  often 
said,  because,  in  this  most  unfortunate  country, 
there  was  not  a  single  gentleman  of  rank,  so 
high-minded,  and  chivalrous  —  as  ever  to  pro- 
to  the  lady  a  change  of  names,  we  may 
add.  She  fell  into  hysterics  at  the  first  intima- 
tion of  her  si-ter's  engagement ;  and  she  wept 
three  consecutive  days  and  nights  before,  and 

lany  after  the   wedding,      \ot\\ithstanding 
all  this,  she  became,  very  soon,  so  far  recon- 
ciled, as  to  honor  the  house  of  the  Ex-mechanic,* 
by  residing  in  it  ;  and   himself  by  accepting  a 
support.      Hut  of  these  matters  anon. 

Tliom;i>  Stanton  drew  near  the  house  of  this 
same  Anthony  Thompson,  of  whom  his  mother 

the  yoti:i_>  ~;  ~Ut>T.  It  WU  a  truly  mag* 
nilicent  edifice,  worthy  to  be  the  dwelling  of  a 
prince,  and  was  situated  in  the  suburbs  of  the 
to\vn,  where  .Nature  still  vied  with  Art,  and,  in 
some  de^  rted  her  ancient  s\\ay.  But 


160  THE    MECHANIC. 

now  all  things  were  shrouded  in  the  garments 
of  winter ;  and  the  house,  itself,  was  far  the 
most  interesting  portion  of  the  scene.  Beauti- 
ful piazzas  of  Doric  architecture  were  on  the 
eastern,  western,  and  southern  fronts  ;  and  the 
fine  white. columns  still  sustained  the  leafless 
stems  of  the  many  creepers,  which,  in  more 
genial  seasons,  wreathed  them  with  bonds  of 
beauty.  But  we  detain  our  friend  too  long  this 
cold  morning,  from  the  hospitable  fire.  We 
will  presently  admit  him,  and  thee  too  kind 
reader,  if  it  be  only  to  warm  thy  fingers  after 
the  cheerless  way  we  have  been  taking  thee 
and  prating  of  scenery,  too,  when  thy  ears, 
despite  of  fur  and  exercise,  were  stinging  with 
this  whistling  north-wester. 

The  cogitative  mood  in  which  we  have  hint- 
ed Stanton  was  indulging,  seemed  to  strengthen 
as  he  drew  near  the  house  ;  and  a  feeling  of 
uneasiness  —  of  doubt,  of  fear,  perhaps,  became 
mingled  with  his  reflections.  A  somewhat  hes- 
itating pull  of  the  bell,  called  a  spruce  servant 
to  the  door ;  and  the  enquiry  of,  "  Is  Miss 
Thompson  at  home  ? "  was  answered  in  the 
affirmative.  The  next  moment  a  light  step 
came  tripping  down  the  spiral  stairs  ;  and,  "  Is 
that  you,  coz  !  "  said  Bella  Thompson,  before 


THE    MECHANIC.  161 

she  came  in  sight ;  and  when  she  did  appear, 
even  her  cousin  was  struck  with  her  dazzling 
beauty,  familiar  as  it  was. 

'•  Why,  Bell !  you  have  grown  very  —  upon 
my  word  you  are  —  you  know  what,  Bell,  as 
well  as  I  do  !  " 

"  Fie,  Tom  !  I  had  rather  shake  your  fur 
mitten,  than  such  an  icy  hand !  You  freeze 
me  !  " 

"  Then  I'll  warm  you  again,  by  giving  a 
harder  shake ! "  and  the  action  was  speedily 
suited  to  the  word. 

"  Be  merciful,  gentle  cousin  !  Remember 
dislocated  joints  would  be  very  bad  at  the  party 
to-morrow  !  This  is  what  I  get  by  waiving 
ceremony,  and  running  down  stairs  in  my 
morning  dress  !  But  I'll  pay  you  for  it,  some 
time  —  never  fear  ;  "  and  she  tossed  back  her 
pretty  head,  flinging  away  from  the  glowing 
cheek,  and  fair  hands,  a  cluster  of  dark  ringlets, 
discovering  by  the  act,  two  eyes  of  as  deep 
and  melting  blue,  as  ever  played  at  hide-and- 
seek  with  the  touched  and  stirring  heart.  Mis- 
chievous they  were,  and  naughty-looking  at 
times  ;  with  perhaps  a  light  shadow  of  wilful- 
ness  :  and  yet,  beneath  all  this,  lay  a  spirit  of 
tenderness  forever  welling  up  amid  their  depths 
14* 


162  THE   MECHANIC. 

of  liquid  azure,  that  might  touch  and  soften  any 
heart. 

"  I  claim  my  right,  Bell  !  said  Stanton. 
"  Remember  my  good  old  rule,  cousins  may 
kiss  any  time  ;  but  when  they  meet  most 
especially. " 

"  Nay,  Tom,  you  stretch  this  cousinly  pre- 
rogative almost  too  far  —  and  I  will  run 
away  !  " 

No,  no,  you  must  not !  "  said  he,  gently  de- 
taining her.  "  I  have  some  news  to  tell  you.  " 

'•  Well,  what  is  it  ?  Has  aunt's  tortoise-shell 
tabby  had  another  fit ;  or  has  some  mischance 
alighted  on  your  beautiful  iron  gray  ?  " 

"Pshaw!  no.     I  have  been  thinking " 

"  That  is  news  indeed  !  Pray  what  has 
occasioned  so  wonderful  a  phenomenon  ? " 

"  Fie,  Bell !  you  half  put  me  out  of  pa- 
tience !  I  have  something  to  say  to  you.  May 
we  be  alone  a  few  minutes  in  the  parlor  ? " 

"  No ;  father,  and  mother,  and  aunt,  and 
Leon,  and  Pruny,  and  Polly,  and  the  gold 
fishes,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  family  are  there  ; 
so  if  you  would  really  be  particularly  private, 
come  to  the  library.  But  if  you  mean  to  offer 
yourself,  Tom,  I  can  save  you  the  trouble  of 
going  up  stairs.  Just  step  in,  and  speak  to 


THE    MECHANIC.  163 

father  ;  for  you  must  know,  coz,  that  my  con- 
sent would  come,  free,  gratis,  for  nothing,  as 
Mr.  Synonyme  would  say.  " 

"And  pray,  how  is  your  old  lover?  since 
you  have  forced  the  enquiry  on  me. "  Thus 
saying  he  drew  her  arm  through  his,  and  as- 
cended to  the  library  ;  which  the  reader  will 
please  to  believe  was  fitted  up  in  a  style  of 
simple  elegance  according  well  with  the  char- 
acter of  its  mistress,  not  forgetting  the  beauti- 
fully arranged  herbariums,  the  exquisite  little 
cabinet  of  shells,  and  the  valuable  one  of 
minerals,  with  various  minor  matters  in  the 
shape  of  curious  productions  of  nature,  or  of  art ; 
we  must  add  to  thi-^  some  pictures  selected  witli 
much  taste  and  judgment,  a  guitar,  and  a  harp. 

"  Shall  I  play  an  air  while  you  are  collecting 
your  tin  id.  taking  down  her 

guitar,  and  running  her  fingers  over  the  strings. 

••  \o,  not  now.  I  am  not  in  musical  mood 
—  sorry  to  be  so  ungallant.  But  never  mind  — 
-it  you  down  by  this  good  fire,  and  we  will 
talk  over  matters  in  a  social,  cousinly  way. 
Do  you  remember  VictoV  Hyde.  Hell  ?" 

••  Victor  Hyile":"  shelvpeatecl,  witli  a  slight 
blush  ;  and  why  should  ILnot.  He  was  the 
finest  scholar  at  A.  —  unless  T  except  my  cousin 
her. 


164  THE    MECHANIC. 

"  No  exceptions,  gentle  coz.  Victor  Hyde 
was  the  best  scholar  in  school  —  and  the  very 
best  fellow  out  of  school,  I  have  ever  had  the 
good  fortune  to  meet.  " 

"So  you  have  often  told  me  —  and,  I  may 
add,  the  very  best  companion  in  a  botanical  ex- 
cursion, that  ever  escorted  me.  Grew  the  plant 
never  so  high,  or  never  so  far,  it  was  reached, 
and  brought,  as  if  his  simple  will,  had  been  to 
him  an  enchanter's  wand.  He  would  scale 
cliffs,  and  compass  floods,  as  determinately,  and 
as  naturally,  as  if  to  surmount  obstacles  were 
fulfiling  a  law  of  his  nature.  Many's  the  time 
I  have  sighed  for  those  good  old  days  —  for  his 
quick  foot,  and  ready  hand,  when  under  the 
scort  of  a  file  of  tightly  laced,  sandal-shod,  city' 
beaux.  Then,  too,  he  learned  as  if  by  intui- 
tion. Botany  was  not  a  school  study  with  him. 
He  took  it  .up  merely  for  his  own  amusement, 
and  only  pursued  it  during  leisure  hours  ;  yet, 
for  my  life,  I  could  not  get  before  him. " 

"  Yes,  coz  ;  and  there  were  many  sly  jokes 
among  the  boys,  as  there  were,  I  doubt  not, 
among  the  girls,  with  regard  to  this  same  devo- 
tion to  the  same  stuuy,  with  all  the  tete-a-tete 
rambles,  it  naturally  enough  brought  on.  It 
was  considered  quite  ominous,  at  least. " 

"  Fie,  Tom  J  "  she  replied,  again  blushing. 


THE    MECHANIC.  165 

"  I  was  a  mere  child  then.  Bui  to  what  does 
all  this  tend  ?  " 

"  I  loved  Victor.  " 

"  I  am  aware  of  that.  " 

"  I  love  him  still. " 

"  I  do  not  doubt  you,  " 

••  We  have  corresponded  for  several  years, 
and  he  writes  admirably.  " 

"  So  I  should  think.  But  for  what  is  all  this 
preamble  ? " 

"  Victor  is  in  town. " 

'•  In  town  ?  " 

"  Yes,  his  partner,  Mr.  Gray,  has  lately  re- 
moved here. " 

"  What  is  his  business  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  carpenter.  " 

"  A  carpenter,  Tom  !  you  astonish  me  !  " 

"  It  is  even  so.  But  why  do  you  express  so 
much  surprise,  Bell  }  " 

••  Why  —  I  thought  his  mother  intended  him 
for  a  profession. " 

"  She  did  ;  but  Victor  disappointed  her  by 
choosing  —  one  of  the  fine  arts  —  as  most  inc-n 
of  genius  do;  —  and  I  know  of  no  profession 
that  will  give  freer,  bolder  scope  to  his  peculiar 
talent  than  the  noble  science  of  Architecture.  " 

"  You  talk  strangely  enough,  Tom.  " 

"  I  am  sorry  you  think  so,  " 


166  THE    MECHANIC. 

i;  Why  ? " 

"  Because  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you. " 

"  Name  it. " 

"  I  wish  to  introduce  Victor  into  our  circle  ; 
not  that. I  think  he  would  he  at  all  honored  by 
the  admission  ;  but  from  a  more  selfish  motive 
than  tbat  —  I  value  his  society  more  highly 
than  that  of  the  whole  company  beside  ;  and 
therefore  I  want  to  multiply  the  chances  of 
meeting  him.  " 

"  Are  you  crazy,  Tom  ?  This,  of  all  your 
freaks,  caps  the  climax  !  So  you  have  really 
turned  patron  to  a  carpenter  !  " 

"  Patron  !  "  he  repeated,  contemptuously ; 
"  whoever  stands  in  the  presence  of  Victor 
Hyde  would  be  able  to  think  very  little  of 
patronage  ;  unless,  indeed,  it  were  on  his  own 
account.  " 

"  You  talk  very  strangely,  Tom  !  A  car- 
penter admitted  into  our  society  !  Impossible, 
Tom  !  Only  think  of  it !  There  is  not  one 
of  our  acquaintances  would  consent  to  it !  " 

"  By  Jove !  they  shall  consent  to  it ;  or 
their  number  shall  be  one  the  less !  " 

"  Is  it  possible,  Tom,  that  you  !  a  young 
physician  of  agreeable  person,  gentlemanly 
bearing,  fine  talents,  good  family,  and  the  pros- 


THE     MECHANIC.  167 

pect  of  a  large  fortune,  should,  voluntarily, 
associate  yourself  with  a  carpenter?  " 

"  Whatever  I  am,  Bella  Thompson,  be 
assured  that  I  am  proud  to  own  Victor  Hyde 
as  my  bosom  friend  ;  and  where  he  may  not  be 
admitted,  there  will  I  not  go  —  mark  me  —  if 
it  be  to  this  very  house  !  But  what  intrinsic 
advantage  have  I,  which  he  has  not  ?  In  per- 
son am  not  half  his  equal ;  in  talent  far 
inferior ;  in  family,  even,  not  superior ;  and,  as 
to  fortune,  Victor  Hyde  need  look  to  no  father 
for  that  —  with  a  head  to  plan,  and  a  hand  to 
do  ;  with  industry,  character,  genius,  he,  him- 
self, will  ho  the  father  to  his  own  fortune.  He 
will  not  only  win  fortune,  hut  reputation,  such 
as  our  pui-ue  puerile  gentlemen  never  dreamed 
of,  much  less  thought  of  acquiring  !  " 

••  You  an-  enthusiastic." 

"  You  will  not  think  so,  when  you  see 
Victor.  " 

••  He  was  a  beautiful  and  refined,  as  well  as 
intellectual  hoy,  I  remember.  Hut.  associating, 
as  he  must  have  done,  with  mechanics,  must 
have  made  him  rough,  vulgar,  and  low-bred." 

••  You  have  sense,  Bell.  Let  it  have  its 
way.  Do  you  call  your  father  rough,  vulgar, 
and  low-bred  ?  Forgive  me,  Bell  !  "  he  said, 
as  she  blushed,  and  was  turning  away,  half 


168  THE     MECHANIC. 

angryly.  "  Forgive  me,  coz  ;  but  the  only  way 
to  judge  correctly  in  these  things,  is  to  bring 
them  home  to  us.  Were  this  always  done,  we 
should  find  so  many  sore  spots  on  ourselves,  as 
to  make  us  rather  more  careful  than  we  are,  of 
wounding  others.  To  speak  plainly,  then,  I 
see  no  reason  why  a  blacksmith's  daughter 
should  pretend  to  look  down  upon  a  car- 
penter. " 

"  Well,  Tom  !  here's  my  hand.  I  had  half 
a  mind  to  be  angry  •,  but  now  I  think  better  of 
it.  I  will  consider  your  proposition.  In  the 
mean  time,  I  think  that  some  allowance  ought 
to  be  made  for  the  influences  to  which  I  have 
been  subjected. " 

"  But  you  have  been  subjected  to  enough  of 
good  influence,  to  make  you,  —  even  lovely  as 
you  are.  That  noble  aunt  of  ours  is  worthy 
to  train  an  angel ! "  Stanton  alluded  to  a  sister 
of  Mr.  Thompson,  who  had  had  the  principal 
care  of  the  education  of  her  niece.  "  But 
listen,  coz ! "  he  continued  ;  "  Victor  will  be 
at  Mr.  Filbrook's ;  or  rather  at  Mrs.  Penning- 
ton's  to-morrow  night ;  and  you  must  meet  as 
friends ;  for  the  success  of  my  plan,  in  a  great 
measure,  rests  with  you.  " 

"  How  with  me  ?  " 

"  My  reason  for  thinking  so  is  established  on 


THE     MECHANIC.  169 

three  pretty  good  pillars ;  and  your  own  will  in 
the  matter  will  make  the  fourth.  You  are  a 
beauty,  a  belle,  and  a  fortune.  But  nonsense ! 
overy  pretty,  much  more  every  beautiful  woman 
knows  her  power :  the  worst  of  it  is  she  is 
prone  to  abuse  it.  You  know,  Bell,  that  you 
have  the  blessed  privilege  of  acting  your  own 
pleasure  ;  and  if  it  should  please  you  to  be 
civil  to  your  old  friend  and  school-fellow,  who 
may  say  you  nay  ?  " 

"  But  do  be  merciful,  coz !  You  surely 
would  not  have  me  throw  aside  all  dignity  ! " 

"  By  no  means.  I  have  always  thought 
digi.ity —  real  dignity — very  becoming,  es- 
pecially in  a  fine  young  lady  ;  and  now  it  will 
enable  you  to  meet  some  rebuff,  without 
shrinking.  Shall  I  bring  Victor  here  to-night, 
or  would  you  rather  meet  him  first  in  a  full 
paru 

"  I  hardly  know.  It  will  be  less  awkward 
to  me  there  ;  and  less  awkward  to  him  here.  " 

"Decide,  if  you  please.  I  have  an  engage- 
ment, and  must  be  gone.  Don't  think  I  am 
asking  you  to  act  the  patroness.  You  would 
find  that  pretty  hard,  I  can  tell  you.  Neither 
do  I  ask  it  for  his  sake.  He  would  spurn  the 
ttention  that  was  not  perfectly  voluntary. 
But  I  ask  you  to  be  civil  to  him,  for  my  sake  — 
15 


170  THE    MECHANIC. 

and  for  yours  "  —  he  added,  in  a  low  and  some- 
what mysterious  key  —  "  You  would  most  cer- 
tainly   " 

«  Would  what  Tom  ?  " 

"  Never  mind.     Shall  T  bring  him  to-night  ?" 

"  Let  me  think.  There  is  my  mantua-maker 
to  attend  to  ;  and  I  am  partly  engaged  at  a 
concert  ;  and  mother's  cap  I  have  promised  to 
re-model  for  the  party  to-morrow,  and . " 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  I  will  see  him  to-night.  " 

"  That's  right,  my  sweet  cousin !  Dare  to 
listen  to  the  dictates  of  your  own  generous 
heart  —  attend  to  the  counsel  of  your  own  good 
reason  —  call  up,  and  cherish,  the  inspiration 
of  your  better  angel,  that  noble  Aunt ;  and  you 
will  be  safe,  even  amid  the  hollow  mazes  of 
vanity  and  folly,  you  are  doomed  to  tread. 
Now,  sweet  cousin,  I  must  run  away  ;  but 
sometime  ere  long,  I  will  enact  the  confessor  ; 
and  hear  from  your  own  true  lips  how  fares 
that  gentle  heart  of  thine,  amid  the  many  sieges 
it  has,  of  late,  been  called  to  sustain.  " 

"Free,  cousin!  mine  —  free,  as  the  moun- 
tain winds  —  free,  as  the  freest  thought  !  But 
stop  a  moment,  and  tell  me  of  the  bride.  How 
happens  it,  that  when  she  has  lived  all  her  life 
in  Bostoni  people  never  found  out  before,  that 


THE    MECHANIC.  171 

she  is  the  most  beautiful,  the  most  accomplish- 
ed, the  most  elegant  —  the  most  perfect  lady 
that  ever  blessed  our  longing  eyes  ;  in  short, 
that  slu;  is  lib>  the  poet's  Miranda,  'made  of 
every  creature's  best. '  One  would  think,  in- 
deed, that  all  her  acts  were  queens,  such  a 
lustre  accompanies  whatever  she  does  ;  but 
how  is  it  that  the  world  has  just  seen  fit  to 
crown  them,  with  its  all-gracious  approbation  ?" 

••  1  will  tell  you.  Before  her  marriage,  Mrs. 
Talbot  was  a  carpenter's  daughter.  Now,  she 
is  a  Lawyer's  wife.  " 

"  You  astonish  me  more  and  more  !  Your 
friend  Talbot — one  of  the  most  unexceptiona- 
ble matches  in  the  whole  country,  descending 
to  marry  a  carpenter's  daughter!  '' 

••  You  have  seen  Ednah  —  do  you  think  it 
really  a  descent  to  love,  and  marry  her  ?  " 

••  Why  you  know  I  thought  her  an  enchant- 
ing creature,  as  far  as  herself  was  concerned, " 

••  Who  eUe.  pray,  has  any  right  to  be  con- 
cerned :  " 

"You  understand  me  well  enough.  What- 
ever the  girl  might  be,  herself,  if  her  lather  was 
a  carpenter,  I  do  not  see  how  a  gentleman  ever 
raine  to  think  of  marrying  her." 

•   How  much  worse  is  a  carpenter's  daughter, 


172  THE    MECHANIC. 

than  a  blacksmith's  daughter  ?  It  seems  to  me 
that  the  Chip  is  much  the  nicer  man .  " 

"  There  it  is  again.  You  know  father  never 
—  never  worked  long.  He  has  been  entirely  a 
gentleman  for  these  great  many  years.  You 
know  it  is  very  different,  Tom !  Why  will 
you  teaze  me  so  ?  " 

"  Because  you  deserve  it.  " 

"  Nay,  now,  I  '11  retaliate  !  I  believe  there 
must  be  an  under  current  of  vulgarity,  running 
below  all  this  fine  appearance.  I  shall  look 
out. " 

"  Take  care,  Bell  ;  or  I  shall  administer 
truth  in  such  doses  as  will  not  be  agreeable,  if 
they  are  wholesome,  I  tell  you,  then,  that  the 
advantages  of  home  education  —  (and  they  are 
by  far,  the  most  important)  which  you  have  en- 
joyed, may  not  compare  with  those  of  Ednah 
Gray  ;  for  the  very  reason  that  your  mother,  in 
point  of  education,  temper,  talents,  or  real  dig- 
nity of  character,  does  not  deserve  to  be  men- 
tioned in  the  same  day  with  hers.  Forgive  me, 
gentle  cousin.  You  have  virtues  ;  and  they 
are  all  the  better  for  being  entirely  your  own.  " 

"  I  know  —  I  understand  you,  Tom,  "  she 
replied,  after  having  tried  to  pout  a  little.  "  So. 
I  am  taking  my  first  lesson  in  Radicalism  ?  " 


THE    MECHANIC.  173 

"  In  common  sense,  you  had  better  say.  " 

"  No,  Tom,  in  the  most  uncommon  sense. 
But  what  kind  of  a  scholar  shall  I  make  ?  " 

"  Capital,  I  doubt  not.  You  will  surpass 
your  teacher,  ere  long,  I  dare  say.  But  tell 
me  again,  coz,  is  your  heart  really  unpledged, 
untouched,  as  yet !  " 

"  Entirely  so.  "  And  putting  her  hand  in 
his,  as  he  rose  to  go,  with  that  delicate  confid- 
ingness  of  manner,  that  goes  so  directly  to  the 
heart,  she  added,  "  I  have  no  secret  for  you, 
coz :  "  and,  imprinting,  unforbidden,  a  kiss  on 
her  fair  cheek,  he  left  her  alone. 


15* 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  Think  not  of  it,  THY  STATE  is  NOT  THYSELF. 
Let  mean  souls,  highly  ranked,  look  down  on  thee, 
As  the  poor  dwarf  perched  on  a  pedestal, 
O'erlooks  the  giant.     '  Tis  not  worth  a  thought. 

****** 
Shame  seize  me,  if  I  would  not  rather  be 
The  man  thou  art,  than  court-created  chief, 
Known  only  by  the  dates  of  his  promotion.  " 

JOANNA  BAILLIE. 

For  some  minutes  after  the  departure  of  her 
cousin,  Bell  remained  silent.  Both  her  hands, 
(they,  at  least,  in  no-wise  seemed  to  have  any 
memory  of  the  blacksmith's  shop,)  were  clasped 
before  her.  There  was  an  evident  uneasiness  in 
her  thoughts,  which,  presently,  took  the  form 
of  soliloquy. 

"  What  a  strange  fellow  that  cousin  is  !  He 
is  forever  drawing  me  into  some  difficulty  ;  and 
always  with  a  plausible  reason  !  Victor  was 
handsome,  intelligent,  captivating  ;  as  all  the 
girls  knew  ;  and  I  remember  with  quite  suffic- 
ient distinctness.  But  what  is  all  that  now  ? 
He  is  a  carpenter.  He  used  to  be  aspiring. 
How  can  he  have  so  little  ambition  ?  He  must 


THE    MECHANIC.  175 

be  changed.  Tom  says  he  is  improved  ;  but 
his  opinion,  in  such  matters,  goes  for  nothing. 
I  remember  once  he  discovered  the  highest  in- 
tellectual beauty,  in  a  blind,  itinerant  fiddler  ; 
at  another  time  he  went  into  raptures  over  the 
grace  and  elegance  of  a  sweep  ;  and  I  verily 
believe  he  was  determined  to  make  me  in  love 
with  a  young  dray-man  !  Then  he  is  so  inde- 
pendent—  so  entirely  free  from  the  prejudices 
that  fetter  other  people.  He  is  not  fit  for  fash- 
ionable life.  But  this  old  beau  —  I  have  a 
great  curiosity  to  see  him  !  What  if  he  should 
presume  —  No,  he  will  never  think  of  renewing 
that  childish  partiality.  Fie!  I  wonder  if  he 
will  see  any  change  in  me  !  "  and  tossing  off 
her  curls  again,  and  lifting  her  fine  head  with 
the  air  of  a  queen,  she  surveyed  herself  a  mo- 
ment in  the  pier  glass  opposite  ;  and  a  wiser 
than  she  might  be  forgiven  the  brief  exultation  ; 
for  a  fairer  image  has  seldom  been  reflected  in 
mortal  habitation  !  Yet,  most  beautiful  Isabel- 
la, yet  ait  thou  changed,  and  mournfully  too  — 
i  more  than  in  the  perfection  of  thine  own 
lovely  exterior.  Truth  and  Nature,  as  in  most 
instances,  have  not  been  quite  sacrificed  to 
Falsehood  and  Art ;  for  there  was  too  deep  sin- 
cerity in  thy  own  truthful  and  loving  heart,  to 
be  satisfied  with  the  mere  semblance  of  things  ; 


176  THE     MECHANIC. 

yet  much  is  there  of  mockery,  —  much  that  is 
quite  hollow  —  as  the  throned  Monitor  within, 
is  continually  telling  thee.  But  the  refining 
fire  is  coming  to  thee,  also ;  when  the  chaff, 
and  the  tares,  shall  be  burnt  up  together  ;  until 
only  the  good  wheat  shall  be  left. 

Bella  Thompson  had  really  many  frailties 
lurking  in  her  sweet  human  nature  ;.and  if  she 
were  not  quite  spoiled,  in  having  been  the  ob- 
ject of  injudicious,  almost  unbounded  indul- 
gence, it  only  proves  that  genuine  goodness, 
like  Gold,  is  indestructible.  Nature  meant  her 
for  a  lofty  and  noble  —  for  a  right  truthful  char- 
acter ;  and  although  weak  Indulgence,  and  idle 
Vanity,  were  not  strong  enough  to  overthrow 
—  yet  they  thwarted  the  design.  Our  heroine 
was  proud,  dominating,  perhaps  vain,  as  a  belle 
at  twenty  might  naturally  be.  But  enough  of 
this  ;  character  is  best  shown  in  action. 

The  evening  came.  Bell,  without  having 
made  her  toilet  with  unusual  care,  still  kept 
finding  the  not  perhaps  unwonted  thought,  of 
how  do  I  look  ?  strangely  enough  intruding 
upon  her.  Let  us  to  the  parlor.  A  magnifi- 
cent grate,  piled  with  glowing  anthracite,  gave 
an  air  of  comfort  to  the  richly  furnished  apart- 
ment. In  a  large,  comfortable,  lolling  chair, 
sat  Mr.  Thompson,  with  one  foot'  carefully  de- 


THE      MECHANIC.  177 

posited  on  an  ottoman  ;  for  he  was  but  just 
recovering  from  an  attack  of  inflammatory 
rheumatism  ;  or,  as  his  lady  would  have  it, 
the  gout.  He  was  a  One-looking  old  man, 
with  the  word  of  command,  the  power  to  shape 
de<tinie-.  written  on  his  bold  open  brow.  You 
could  hardly  think  him  more  than  seventy. 
On  another  ottoman,  close  by  his  well  side,  sat 
his  daughter  —  his  hope  and  idol  —  reading  the 
last  Review  aloud  to  him.  She  was  dressed 
like  a  little  Quakeress,  rather  than  a  belle,  so 
exquisitely  neat  was  her  attire  —  a  plain  black 
silk  dress,  surmounted  by  a  white  muslin  caped 
apron,  trimmed  with  a  narrow  frill  neatly 
crimped,  made  a  costume  particularly  becoming 
to  her  finely  rounded  little  figure,  and  fair  com- 
plexion. One  arm  rested  on  a  richly  carved 

ood  table;  while  a  large  argand  lamp 
threw  it<  beamy-giving  lustre  on  her  fair  cheek, 
and  heightened  the  proud  flush  of  her  dark  eye. 
On  the  other  hand  sat  Aunt  Augusta,  a  piim- 
looking,  lady-like  personage,  uneasy  in  mind, 
and  re-tie--;  in  body,  engaged  in  netting.  Her 
few  gray  locks  were  mostly  hidden  by  two 
large  braids  of  false  hair,  (which  False  \va<.  a 
tru-  -ymbol,)  crowned  by  a  large  and  elegantly 

ht  comb.  You  would  set  her  down  at 
a  glance,  as  numbering  herself  among  the  ex- 


178  THE    MECHANIC. 

clusives.  Her  father  had  been  a  born-gentle- 
man ;  and  not  one  of  her  family  had  ever  pro- 
faned a  finger  by  the  touch  of  any  implement, 
for  the  purpose  of  what  is  vulgarly  —  I  should 
rather  say  politely  —  called  work  ; '  notwith- 
standing her  two  profligate  brothers  had  died  in 
an  English  almshouse.  Back  on  a  grecian  sofa 
sat  Mrs.  Thompson,  her  feet  on  a  beautifully 
wrought  stool  ;  and  her  gloved  hands  folded  on 
her  lap.  with  that  nothing-to-do,  and  nothing 
to-wish  for  expression,  that  showed  she  was 
fully  practised  in  the  truly  lady-like  art,  of  per- 
fect idleness.  On  the  rug,  at  the  feet  of  Bell, 
lay  old  Leon,  a  noble  Newfoundland  dog,  with 
one  silvery  paw  stretched  out  over  the  delicate 
little  foot  where  he  nestled  :  and  in  the  oppo- 
site corner  reposed  a  large  Maltese  Cat,  on 
another  rug  expressly  devoted  to  her  ladyship. 
Presently  Leon  gave  the  long,  low  whine,  that 
announced  a  coming  step  ;  and  the  next  mo- 
ment the  door-bell  rang  ;  but  it  was  only  Miss 
Simpson  the  mantua-maker ;  and  Bella  blushed 
as  if  half  angry  with  herself,  for  having  risen  so 
hastily.  She  left  the  room  to  attend  to  Ladies' 
state  business  —  the  mighty  matter  of  dress  — 
Miss  Simpson  found  her  in  a  very  accommoda- 
ting mood.  Several  grave  faults  were  not  seen 
—  several  other  quite  aggravated  ones,  were 


THE     MECHANIC.  179 

passed  over  as  hardly  worth  minding  ;  and  the 
important  personage  was  dismissed,  quite  agree- 
ably disappointed. 

"  I  have  done  well  to  be  simple,  to-night  ;  " 
said  the  beauty,  pausing  —  as  what  beauty  does 
not  —  before  the  glass.  "  I  must  be  merciful  ; 
for.  not  having  been  accustomed  to  society, 
it  would  be  a  thousand  pities  to  disconcert  him. 
I  shall  be  sorry  for  the  poor  fellow,  I  am  sure. 
How  dreadfully  awkward,  and  uncomfortable 
he  must  feel !  What  a  pity  it  is  he  has  seen 
nothing  but  Mechanics  !  " 

With  another  quite  approving  look  at  her 
own  fair  image,  she  descended  to  the  parlor  ; 
but  scarcely  was  she  seated,  when  Leon  started 
on  his  feet  ;  and  hiving  his  head  across  the  lap 
of  his  young  mistress,  uttered  a  long,  thrilling 
cry.  Th  -nun  tiling  peculiar  in  the 

creature's  tone  and  expression  ;  and  Bell  really 
blushed,  as  if  she  felt  that  he  had  detected  an- 
other ear  watching  for  a  coming  step.  The 
hell  rang.  Dr.  Stanton  entered,  and  the 
girl's  eyes  berame  riveted  to  the  door  by  a 
strange  fascination  :  and  when  a  tall,  graceful, 
very  handsome,  and  singularly  elegant  young 
man  made  his  appearance,  she  thought  Tom 
had  been  quizzing  her.  The  air  of  the  stran- 
ger was  truly  noble  ;  how,  then,  could  lie  be  a 


180  THE    MECHANIC. 

Mechanic  —  a  mere  vulgar  working-man,  that 
was  doomed  to  labor  with  'his  hands  ?  But, 
at  a  second  glance,  she  recognized  the  well- 
remembered —  she  had  sometimes  feared  too 
well  remembered,  outlines  of  form  and  feature 
peculiar  to  Victor  Hyde.  She  rose  as  Thomas 
led  him  forward. 

"  Bell,  I  have  the  pleasure  of  bringing  back 
to  you  again,  your  old  friend  —  I  need  not  tell 
his  name,  I  believe.  " 

Was  there  a  coloring  of  rouge  in  that  thought 
of  bringing  back,  that  they  both  blushed  so 
deeply  ?  Bell  gave  her  hand  ;  but  they  were 
silent  a  moment  regarding  each  other  with  evi- 
dent surprise  and  pleasure.  She  then  turned, 
and  introduced  him  to  her  father,  as  the  old 
friend  of  whom  she  had  so  often  spoken.  Alas, 
poor  Bell  !  she  blushed  while  confessing  that 
she  had  often  spoken  of  him  ;  but  the  blush 
was  for  the  frequent  thought,  which  she  did  not 
confess  !  The  old  gentleman  received  him 
right  cordially.  Mrs.  Thompson,  as  usual,  was 
stately  ;  and  Miss  Augusta  extended  her  hand 
with  an  indefinable  kind  of  patronizing  air,  very 
becoming  in  a  lady  of  quality  ;  for  she  had  un- 
derstood that  his  family  were  plain  country 
people,  who  could  support  themselves  honestly, 
and,  in  extreme  cases,  could,  in  no  wise,  prefer, 


THK     MECHANIC.  181 

\vliat  so  many  of  our  aristocracy  do,  a  residence 
in  some  public  Asylum,  rather  than  descend  to 
Labor.  This  ceremony  past,  the  guests  \\ere 
seated  :  when  Bell  eagerly  inquired  of  her 

friends  in  A ,  and  especially  of  her  dear 

Aunt  Louisa,  with  whom  she  had  resided  while 
there. 

'•  She  is  well  ; "  replied  Victor,  "  and  1  am 
happy  to  say  I  bring  a  letter  for  you. " 

Bell  took  the  letter  eagerly  ;  and  saying, 
"  With  your  leave  gentlemen  !  "  broke  the  seal, 
read,  and  handed  it  to  her  father. 

.Mr.  Thump-on  soon  engaged  his  young  guest 
in  conversation  ;  and,  on  all  the  subjects  intro- 
duced, he  expres-ed  himself  so  understandingly, 
and  ev<  n  elegantly  :  that  Bell,  who  had  been 
watching  for  some  vulgarity,  some  technical,  or 
cant  phrase,  \vas  thwarted.  He  did  not  even 
r  surprised  at  any  thing  he  saw.  He 
behaved,  in  short,  quite  like  a  well-bred  gentle- 
man. It  was  i-u-ij  ^trange!  Mr.  Thompson 
appeared  really  pleased  ;  for  Victor  not  only 
entered  into  most  of  bis  views,  with  great  spirit; 
but  from  that  deep-seeing  eye  of  his,  reflected 
ne\\  li-lit  upon  them.  .Mr.  Thompson  liked 
this  hearty  concurrence  in  most  of  his  views  ; 
for  he  \va*  of  a  very  ardent  temperament  ;  and 
they  did  not  ;i,e  Opinion  of  Vic- 

16 


182  THE     MECHANIC. 

tor,  without  compromising  one  jot  —  without 
bending  at  all,  was,  as  it  were,  softened  by  that 
respectfulness  of  manner,  which  goes  so  to  the 
heart  of  an  old  person.  Miss  Augusta,  even, 
forgot  that  he  was  a  plain  iarmer's  son  ;  or 
rather  she  conceived  that  she  had  detected  the 
innate  and  undisguiseable  Nobility,  which  is 
always  supposed  to  accompany  noble  blood  ; 
as  she  very  deferentially  enquired,  if  he  were 
connected  with  the  Hydes,  of  Hyde-Park, 
England. 

He    replied    that    his    ancestors,   for  several- 
generations  had  dwelt  in  A ;  and  further 

back  he  knew  nothing  of  them,  though  possibly 
his  grandmother  might  be  able  to  tell  the  lady, 
were  she  alive,  and  present  ;  but  she,  quite 
unfortunately,  being  not  only  absent,  but  dead, 
the  probability  was  that  the  great  question  of 
our  hero's  ancestry  would  remain  unsettled. 
So  was  his  claim  to  ancient  blood,  rendered,  at 
the  least,  questionable.  Claim,  did  I  say  ? 
He  made  none  ;  for  he  plainly  told  her  that  his 
ancestry,  and  connections.tyere,  all,  so  far  as  he 
knew  them,  hard-laboring,  but  respectable  and 
very  honest  people.  Miss  Augusta  turned  up 
her  own  very  gently  descended  nose  ;  though 
in  the  individual,  it  must  be  confessed,  this  fea- 
ture bore  rather  questionable  marks  of  gentle- 


THE     MECHANIC. 

ness.  Mr.  Thompson  saw  that  unfortunate 
turn  :  and,  as  lie  was  a  lover  of  peace,  and  a 
polite  man,  withal,  he  began  making  some  en- 
quiries of  his  own  individual  prospects  ;  finally 
asking,  "  In  what  business  do  you  propose 
to  engage  ?  Any  thing  in  the  manufacturing 
line  ?  " 

••  Another  bad  hit  \ ''  thought  Tom,  while 
Bell  really  turned  pale.  "  He  will  be  severely 
dashed  now  !  "  thought  she  ;  but  nothing  was 
more  foreign  to  Lim. 

••  I  am  a  carpenter  sir  ;"  he  replied,  with 
the  air  of  a  prince,  Bell  thought.  It  was,  in- 
deed, with  that  quiet  dignity  of  manner,  which, 
being  assured  in  itself,  seeks  no  foreign  seal. 
••  1  am  a  carpenter,  sir  ;  and  I  expect  to  work 
at  my  tr ; 

Mrs.  Thompson  moved  in  her  chair,  as  if  agi- 

tated   liv    a    very    slight    electric    shock.      .Miss 

ta  drew  herself  up  to  rather  more  than 

her  iiMial   height  ;  while   Mr.  Thompson,  liiin- 

1  nfM^ght  surprise  ;   yet  he  said, 

••  That  i<;  a  goo^j^Mess  ;  but  hardly  one  that 

a  young   man   of  your  advantages,  would    be 

likely    to  engage,   in    at  this   day.      Perhaps   it 

our  lather's  wi<h.  " 

No,  sir  ;"   replied  Victor,  rather  proudly  ; 
for  he  saw  the  effect  his  communication  had 


184  THE    MECHANIC. 

made.  "  No,  sir  ;  my  father  intended  me  for 
the  bar  ;  but  I  chose  my  own  business  ;  and  to 
be  a  finished  architect  is  now  the  height  of  my 
ambition.  Architecture,  sir,  is  a  noble  science 
—  it  is  a  divine  art.  I  have  had  a  passion  for 
it  longer  than  I  can  remember  !  and  would  it 
not  be  a  shame,  for  me  to  sacrifice  this  ability 
for  certain  usefulness,  to  a  miserable  pride  —  a 
silly  prejudice  !  " 

"  True  —  very  true  ;  but  the  girls,  now-a- 
days,  have  but  a  poor  idea  of  mechanics. 
How  is  it  ?  Am  I  not  right,  Bell  ?  I  can't 
tell  how  it  is,  with  you  ;  but  when  I  was  a 
young  man,  my  chief  desire  was  to  please  the 
girls.  " 

"I  have  chosen  my  profession  for  myself,  sir, 
and  the  community  in  which  I  live  ;  and  I 
shall  not  take  the  trouble  to  enquire  who  else  is 
pleased,  or  displeased  !  The  girl  that  I  can 
love  will  have  too  good  a  heart,  as  well  as  too 
strong  a  mind,  to  admit  such  narrow  views. 
She  must,  have  a  generous  and  liberal  Thought ; 
a  penetrating  and  truth-loving  Eye,  that  can 
perceive  the  excellence,  the  beauty,  of  true, 
manly  labor !  She  will  not  look  upon  it  merely 
as  a  mode  of  getting  bread  ;  but  as  the  Gym- 
nasium of  this  great  Academy,  which  is  called. 
Life,  wherein  the  Scholar-Soul  may  be  exercis- 


THE    MECHANIC.  185 

ed,  according  to  its  various  capacities,  so  it 
may  gather  the  truest  and  the  noblest  strength  ; 
and  without  which,  strength  is  not.  This  sin- 
gle principle,  sir,  of  the  dignity  of  man,  his 
innate  tendency  to  goodness  —  his  univ<r-;il 
capacity  for  greatness  —  nay,  the  absolute 
greatness  of  every  human  soul  —  I  would  not 
yield  for  the  sake  of  being  married  to  an  em- 
press, were  I  to  be  raised  to  an  equal  place  on 
the  throne  beside  her.  To  me  every  true  man 
is  invested  with  a  dignity  —  a  grandeur  — 
which  no  human  agency  could,  either  create  or 
destroy.  Crowns,  coronets,  and  mitres  ;  the 
highest  officers  both  of  church  and  state  are 

D 

made  by  men  ;  and  of  men  they  hold  their 
power  ;  but  who  has  ever  created  A  MAN,  and 
given  him  power,  save  God  only  ?  " 

As  he  paused  the  eyes  of  Victor  met  those  of 
Bell.     There   was  a  mutual    flinh  —  a  mutual 
lion  of  thought  —  and  their  spirits  stood, 
a>  it  \\cre,  lace  tof^fe.     They  knew  each  other. 
For  a  moment  •< •<!  into  the  other'- 

with  the  piercing  earnestness  of  a  truth-seeker; 
and  was  not  that  conscious  blush,  as  a  threshold, 
when.-  the  kindred  souls  went  forth,  and  met, 
and  recognized  and  embraced  each  other  ? 
Henceforth,  they  were  not  strangers.  Powerful 
16* 


186  THE     MECHANIC. 

is  the  influence  of  the  true  spirit  upon  the  truev 
With  a  principle  stronger  than  any  chemical 
affinities,  they  rush  together,  and  mingle  —  and 
beautiful  —  most  beautiful  — is  their  union  !  I 
have  said  that  Bella  Thompson  had  many 
faults.  Truly,  had  she.  But  the  Actual  had 
not  quite  given  place  to  the  chimerical.  The 
central  sun  of  Truth  still  shone  ;  obscured,  it 
may  be,  by  the  mists  and  shadows  of  Folly, 
and  Vanity,  and  Falsehood  ;  yet  still  it  shone  ; 
and  still  it  was  Truth  living,  indestructible 
Truth.  And  if  the  Lightning-Thought  of  Vic- 
tor did  not  quite  melt  away  and  disperse  those 
vapors  ;  it  still  penetrated  them,  and  reached 
the  corresponding  Thought  beneath.  Mysteri- 
ous is  the  action  of  Mind  upon  Mind  ! 

But  we  digress.  Mr.  Thompson  smiled  be- 
nignantly,  as  he  replied  ;  "  All  this  is  true  and 
right.  You  have  made  an  honorable  choice, 
from  honorable  motives.  I  am  a  mechanic 
myself ;  and  though  I  have  long  been  engaged 
in  other  business,  all  the  sympathy  of  early 
association  is  with  that  class  of  people.  Mrs. 
Thompson  here,  though  come  of  gentle  blood, 
had  the  good  sense  to  choose  a  Mechanic  for 
her  husband." 

"  You  were  not  a  mechanic  when  I  gave  my 


THE    MECHANIC.  187 

consent,  Mr.  Thompson  !  "  replied  the  lady 
rather  tartly.  "  If  you  had  been,  your  name, 
sir,  had  never  been  mine  !  " 

Here  the  scene  closes.  The  probability  is 
that  Bell  and  Victor,  dreamed  of  each  other 
that  night.  But,  kind  Reader  ;  inasmuch  as 
we  profess  to  indulge  no  mere  idle  curiosity  ; 
we  will  not  pry  more  closely  into  their  affairs, 
than  they,  themselves,  are  willing  to  shew. 

We  have  little  to  do  with  ball  and  assembly 
rooms  ;  and  yet,  dear  reader  ;  if  it  be  agreea- 
ble to  thee,  we  will  take  a  stroll  into  those  of 
Mrs.  Pennington,  as  they  are  now  brilliantly 
lighted  ;  and  thronged  by  forms  of  the  gay,  the 
lovely,  and  the  gifted,  in  honor  of  the  bride, 
her  niece  —  late  Ednah  Gray,  now  Mrs.  Tal- 
bot.  There  stands  tin-  heroine  of  the  night,  in 
the  centre  of  that  brilliant  circle,  "  the  admired 
of  all  admirers  ;  "  and  so  intrinsically  lovelv. 
that  nothing  —  not  even  this  nonsensical  pa- 
rade, can  hurt  her.  Lovingly  twined  with  her, 
arm  in  arm,  stands  Bella  Thompson ,  whose 
truthful  spirit,  though  long  exposed  to  much 
that  was  sickly  and  sinister,  yot  promptly  re- 
sponds to  the  healthful  and  the  true  ;  and  now 
drawn  to  the  side,  and  the  heart  of  Ednah, 
by  a  new  and  irresistible  attraction.  She  who 
was  yesterday,  but  a  carpenter's  daughter,  or, 


188  THE    MECHANIC. 

it  the  best,  a  lawyer's  wife,  is  now  the  acme  of 
every  feminine  grace  and  virtue.  How  myste- 
riously opinions  sometimes  change !  At  the 
bride's  right  hand  stands  Victor  ;  and  on  her 
left  Mr.  Harrison  ;  while  advancing  towards 
her,  is  her  happy  and  devoted  husband.  Hov- 
ering round  this  little  centre,  is  a  circle  of  mag- 
nificently dressed  belles  and  beaux  ;  such  as 
pay  their  devoirs  to  Beauty,  Wealth,  or  Gen- 
tility. Farther  on  is  a  group  of  the  extreme 
fashionables.  Yet  farther  is  Mr.  Filbrook  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gray,  and  Mr.  Thompson ;  who, 
notwithstanding  his  lameness,  has  ventured  out 
on  this  joyful  occasion,  so  interesting  to  his  old 
friend.  Quite  aside  from  these  sits  Mrs. 
Thompson,  with  Miss  Augusta  ;  the  latter, 
pale,  cheerless,  and  deserted,  well  representing 
the  ghost  of  departed  Aristocracy  —  a  solemn 
mockery.  There,  Victor  is  now  leading  Bella 
Thompson  towards  Mr.  Filbrook,  who  salutes 
her  with  a  truly  paternal  kindness  of  manner  ; 
and  Victor,  himself,  could  not  help  observing, 
amid  that  gorgeous  blaze  of  splendor  how  re- 
freshing was  her  perfectly  elegant  simplicity  of 
dress  and  manner.  There  were  nods  and  whis- 
pers among  the  Exclusives,  near  at  hand,  envi- 
ous and  malicious  sneers  and  light  titterings, 
which,  far  more  than  "the  loud  laugh,"  "speak 


THE   MECHANIC.  189 

the  vacant  mind.  "     Hut  these  oracles  of  Fash- 
ion are  befrinnini:  to  speak.      L>-t  us  listen. 

"  For  my  part,  I  think  it  quite  time  to  put  a 
stop  to  these  encroachments  !  "  said  Mr.  All- 
short,  a  tall,  meager,  lantern-jawed  son  of 
change.  If  we  do  not  drop  down  the  gate 
upon  these  innovations,  I  tremble  to  think  what 
will  become  of  society  !  Who  could  imagine 
that  the  talented,  the  rich  Talbot,  should  marry 

M   '  hanic's  daughter?  '' 

"  And  her  Aunt,  pushing  her  forward,  and 
expecting  us  to  notice  her  !  "  added  Mr-.  Tall- 
man,  a  short,  fat,  pugnosed,  and  altogether 
quite  vulgar  looking  woman  ! 

••Mr.    Allshort,"   said   Mr.   Filbrook.  whose 
vicinity  was   not   perceived   in    the  crowd,  "  is 
the  son  of  a  Barber;  and  Mrs.  Tallman's  father 
the  illegitimate  child  of  a  washwoman.  " 

••  I    think  it  is  really   awful.  Mr.  Hownoit.-.  5' 

Julia    Almira    Overlnvd.       T' 
that    Mr-.  Talbot  lias   really   bf-n   k«'e)>in<: 
school.      Win  n    1    was    in    (Jrrmany    I    knew 
nothing  of  this  vulgar  mix! 

••  I    wonder    who    brought    that    fellow   here. 

and  what  In-  turned  the  E\i|iii-it<>, 

who   uas  one  of  the  most  delicate  of  all  'the 

Diminutives,  that  ever  took  the  name  of  Dandy. 

^  orse   and  worse!''    said    Mr.    Filbrook. 


190  THE      MECHANIC. 

Bownotte's  father  was  a  French  dancing-mas- 
ter ;  and  Miss  Overbred's  father  was  a  Shoe- 
maker, her  mother  a  dress-maker.  " 

"  Surely  that  chip  cannot  expect  to  become 
one  of  us  !  "  said  Mr.  Clapwell,  deliberately 
raising  his  glass,  and  surveying  our  hero. 

"  Quite  unlikely  !  "  said  our  old  acquaintance, 
Parkhurst  ;  "  and  yet,  these  sort  of  fellows  will 
push  along,  with  impudence  that  could  shame 
the  Devil  —  your  pardon,  ladies  !  " 

"  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  Miss  Thomp- 
son should  elope  with  that  mechanic  !  see  how 
affectionate  she  looks  on  him,  now  he  is  speak- 
ing !  I  wonder  any  body  can  call  her  hand- 
some !  "  said  Miss  Orangecheek. 

"  La  !  how  strange  it  is  he  ever  thought  of 
coming  here  !  "  said  Miss  Uppercrust. 

"Th.at  Clapwell,"  said  our  aside,  "  is  the 
son  of  a  carpenter,  who,  moreover,  was  known 
to  purloin,  absolutely  to  steal,  almost  all 
the  stuff  with  which  to  build  his  first  house. 
Miss  Orangecheek  is  the  niece  of  a  New  York 
milliner,  who  obtained  her,  when  an  infant, 
nobody  knows  where  ;  and  Miss  Uppercrust  is 
the  grand-daughter  of  a  stage-driver.  " 

Mr.  Filbrook  was  rather  eccentric.  He  loved 
a  joke  ;  but  it  was  never  at  the  expense  of  one 
particle  of  truth,  or  kindness.  Suddenly  he 


THE    MECHANIC.  191 

emerged  from  the  little  nook  where  he  had 
been  stationed  ;  and  with  Victor  supporting 
him  on  one  side,  and  Bell  on  the  other,  drew 
near  the  group  we  have  been  listening  to. 

"Bl<-^  iii'-l  tin-re  is  Filbrook  the  bride's 
grandfather  !  ''  whispered  Parkhurst.  "  He 
must  have  heard  our  remarks.  We  shall  get 
it  now.  Let's  oft',  Crosby  !  "  and  the  two  hon- 
orable gentlemen,  made  a  hurried  exit. 

"  I  have  often  thought,  "  said  Mr.  Filhrook, 
appearing  to  address  Victor,  "  that  those  whose 
claim  to  gentility  is  the  most  questionable,  are 
tin-  most  strenuous  in  asserting  that  claim. 
There  is  an  old  adage, "  he  continued,  recog- 
nix'mg  his  acquaintances  around,  that  '  Those 
who  live  in  glass  houses,  should  not  throw 
stone?  at  their  neighbors'  \\indows'  —  to  me, 
as  to  you,  without  doubt,  my  friends,  that  say- 
ini:  ]\n<  peculiar  significance.  Now,  gentlemen 
and  ladies,  I  have  a  game  to  propose.  As 
we  are,  by  no  mean<.  vulgar  Mobocrats,  or,  in 
other  phrasi'.  Ri-piiblican-  :  but  genuine,  whole 
souled  Aristocrat-,  what  do  you  think  of  making 
of  Armorial  bearing,  cofrespooding  with 
our  several  ancestral  dignities  :  If  there  is  any 
one  present  skilled  in  drawing,  let  him  be  called. 
Victor,  you  will  do,  I  think.  I  have  B< 

us  all   ready   for  you.     Mine,  if  1  may  be 


192  THE     MECHANIC. 

allowed  to  begin  at  home,  shall  be  a  good  old- 
fashioned  spinning-jenny,  in  full  operation  ; 
with  a  hand  like  that  of  Fortune,  guiding  and 
amending  the  threads.  The  house  of  Thomp- 
son would  be  well  represented  by  an  anvil 
couchant,  with  a  large  sledge-hammer  rampant. 
How  do  you  like  that  my  dear  little  Bell  ?  " 

The  one  addressed  smiled  archly  ;  but  the 
others,  by  no  means,  chose  to  avail  themselves 
of  the  good  old  gentleman's  illustrations.  The 
caucus  was  dissolved,  instontcr.  By  this  time 
several  persons  had  caught  the  spirit  of  the 
scene,  and  had  drawn  near  ;  among  whom 
was  Robert  Gray,  now  a  young  man  of  such 
finished  and  singular  elegance,  as  to  be  an  ob- 
ject of  universal  attention.  His  dark  gray  eye 
had,  generally,  a  pensive  cast  ;  but  when  he 
spoke  with  animation,  its  vivid  flashes  might 
almost  hurt  one,  as  if  they  cut. 

"  If  Shakspeare  had  heard  these  our  fashion- 
able oracles,  "  he  said,  "  it  were  no  wonder  that 
he  exclaimed  so  eloquently, 

'O  but  man,  proud  man  ! 
Drest  in  a  little  brief  authority  ; 
Most  ignorant  of  what  he's  most  assured, 
His  glassy  essence —  like  an  angry  ape 
I'lays  such  fantastic  tricks  before  high  haaven 
As  make  the  angels  weep.  '  ' 

"  The   angels,    I    should    think, "    returned 


THE     MECHANIC.  193 

Victor,  would,  far  rather  •'  laugh  themselves 
mortal. '  For  my  part,  I  have  heen  highly  en- 
tertained, I  confess.  " 

"  You  have  fairly  exercised  these  troubled 
spirits,  Mr.  Filbrook  ; "  said  Harrison. 

"  Pray  is  not  that  young  gentleman  your 
friend  Hyde,  Dr.  Stanton  ? "  \\hispeied  -Mr. 
\  inton,  a  clergyman  ;  and,  moreover,  one  of 
the  noblest  of  human  intelligences.  "  Have 
tin-  kindness  to  introduce  me.  It  gives  me 
great  pleasure, "  he  said  presenting  his  bund  to 
Victor,  •'  to  meet  one,  of  whose  good  report  I 
have  so  often  heard.  I  hear  you  are  going  to 
Europe,  Mr.  Hyde  ;  and,  if  agreeable,  I  will 
introduce  you  to  my  liirnd,  Mr.  Gannett,  who 
has  extensive  connections  abroad  :  and  would, 
I  doubt  not,  be  pleased  to  furnish  you  with 
letters.  " 

"  Do  you  hear  that  ?  "  whispered  Dr.  Stanton 
to  !><•!!.  "Did  I  not  tell  you  that  every  person 
essed  of  common  MOM,  must,  and  \\ould, 
be  attracted  by  Victor?  See,  now,  with  \\liat 
mode-t  dignity  lie  replies  to  Mr.  Vinton,  and 
receive-  the  pioiiered  services  of  Mr.  Gannett, 
to  whom  lie  has  no  idea  of  being  servile  ; 
though  lie  is  one  of  the  -tronue-t  merchant-  in 
the  eountu  .  "  Then,  turning  to  the  latter,  he 
said,  "do  you  not  congratulate  yourself,  my 
17 


194  THE     MECHANIC. 

dear  sir,  that  there  is  one  spark  of  common 
sense  left  among  us  ?  " 

"I  do,  indeed;'"  was  the  reply  :  "and  I 
have  been  thinking,  while  listening  to  some 
remarks,  that  it  is  not  strange  ignorant  Euro- 
pean travellers,  hearing  such  things,  should 
make  the  ridiculous  reports,  which  they  some- 
times do. " 

"  Poor,  miserable  apes,  that  we  arc !  "  said 
Mr.  Harrison  ;  "  to  leave  die  solid,  actual 
realities  of  life,  for  a  mere  shadow  !  :' 

"  Any  pretension  to  aristocracy,  properly  so 
called,"  said  Mr.  Viuton,  "is,  at  the  best,  an 
absurdity  ;  for  who  among  us  can  say  he  is  not 
descended  from,  or  connected  with,  the  com- 
mon people  ? " 

"  My  father,  "  said  Mr.  Gannett,  '•  was  a 
cooper  ;  and  though  a  good  workman,  he  was 
really  so  excessively  benevolent  (I  use  the  term 
in  the  widest  sense)  that  he  always  kept  him- 
self poor  ;  yet  I  never  blush  to  think  of  him. 
I  rather  glory  that  I  am  descended  from  so 
good  a  man  !  " 

"  My  father, "  said  Mr.  Vinton,  i;  was  a 
wheelright,  and  my  mother  was  a  country 
school-mistress  ;  yet  it  has  never  occurred  to 
me  to  be  ashamed  of  these  honored  parents  ! 
They  were  poor,  in  what  the  world  recognizes 


THE     MECHANIC.  195 

as  wealth,  and  could  not  afford  to  keep  me  at  a 
'•hool,  when  1  was  you  no;  :  so  durini:  the 
interval-  of  my  necessary  labor,  (for  I  worked 
with  my  lather  at  his  trade  'till  I  \\as  twenty,) 
my  mother  fitted  me  for  college.  How  many 
of  our  fashionable  ladies  could  do  as  much  ? 
.My  mother's  acquirem-'.  •<!.  would  have 

been  respectable  in  a  university.  Could  I  be 
•prouder  of  my  parentage,  were  I  entitled  by 
birth  to  the  highest  dignity  ?  " 

•  \nd  yet,"  said  Mr.  Harrison,  "is  your 
family  both  honorable,  and  ancient  j  for  is  not 
the  FAMILY  OF  MAN,  honorable  ?  Is  not  the 
BLOOD  OF  ADAM,  ancient?  This  is  the  true 
Nobility!  Its  p.itent  is  graven  by  the  hand  of 
(MM|  '.  It  is  indelible  as  the  fixed  La 


n  It  seems  to  id  Mr.  Gannett,  '-'that 

the  greatest  impediment  to  the  pi  '    soci- 

ety. i-  the  total    want    of  manly   independence. 

which  H  so  common  an-.on^  the  lo\\  er  classes." 

••  Ti::~  a  a  -n-at  obsiacN-,  but    not  th'-  u'  real- 

said  Mr.  Vinton.     "The  grand  diliiculty 

it  appears  to  me.  lifs  hnv.      The   mo-t  inllue.n- 

tial  pi-ople,  the  le-i-lati  _rni/.e. 

the    idea,    that    Manual    Labor   is 

;inrr  !      They    may.   to   be   sure,  have    the 

•  iiibodied  in  finely  rounded  peri- 


196  THE    MECHANIC. 

ods,  garnished  with  high-sounding  expressions  ; 
but  their  action,  their  practical  teaching,  goes  to 
establish  this  principle.  This  the  poor  craftsman, 
who  is  left  to  freeze  in  the  presence  of  some  mer- 
cantile or  professional  dignitary,  well  knows  : 
when  a  single  word  of  kindness,  which,  so  far 
from  detracting  from  the  character  of  the  gen- 
tleman, only  enhances  it,  would,  by  recognizing 
his  manhood,  set  him  perfectly  at  ease.  We 
cannot,  with  impunity,  seek  to  evade  the  pen- 
alty ;  '  In  the  sweat  of  thy  brow  shall  thou  eat 
thy  bread.'  If  any  deems  himself  so  fortunate 
as  to  be  beyond  this  law,  still  the  penalty  must 
be  required  in  the  decay,  or  waste,  of  health,  of 
intellect,  or  of  morals.  But  I  can  see  that 
this  law  is  founded  in  the  purest  benevolence. 
When  we  regard  man  as  the  subject  of  educa- 
tion—  as  a  creature  of  progress  —  is  not  THE 
NECESSITY  OF  LABOR  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
features,  in  the  philosophy  of  his  nature?  It 
always  appears  to  me  I  can  detect  an  innate, 
intrinsic  vulgarity,  in  the  man  who  looks  upon 
labor,  as  degrading  ;  however  high  a  niche  he 
may  have  gained  in  the  world's  temple.  " 

"  There  is  ;  "  said  Mr.  Harrison  ;  "  for  such 
a  one  is  content  with  the  Superficial,  and  has 
slight  perception  of  the  Real. "  Here  the 
group  separated. 


THE    MECHANIC.  197 

As  if  by  an  absolute  law  of  nature,  Victor 
was  seen  ever  at  the  side  of  Bell,  during  that 
long,  and  yet,  short  evening.  Are  there  not 
souls  so  perfectly  adapted  to,  so  attractive  to 
each  other,  that  they  cannot  approximate,  with- 
out mingling  ? 

But  now,  if  it  please  you,  gentle  Reader,  let 
us  make  our  bow  to  all  the  friends,  and  not 
friends,  whom  we  have  been  looking  in  upon. 
Gentle  and  simple,  Fashionable  and  Vulgar, 
Aristocrat  and  Democrat,  we  wish  you  all,  a 
very  good  evening. 


17* 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

"  An  anxious  stomach  well 
May  be  endured  ;  so  may  the  throbbing  heart: 
But  such  a  dim  delirium  ;  such  a  dream 
Involves  you  ;  such  a  dastardly  despair 
Unmans  your  soul !  " 

ARMSTRONG. 

I  have  said  in  a  preceding  chapter  that  Vic- 
tor had,  to  his  extreme  sorrow,  found  that  his 
religious  opinions  were  getting  somewhat  unsta- 
ble. .This  process  had  been  a  very  long  and 
gradual  one  ;  and  thus  it  passed  into  a  state  of 
feverish  restlessness,  of  doubt,  almost  of  despair, 
Day  after  day  were  these  doubts  deepening  and 
darkening,  until,  at  length,  bright-winged  Hope, 
and  pure-eyed  Faith,  who  had  been,  forever,  as 
visible  angels,  walking  before,  and  hovering 
around  him,  clapped  their  wings  and  fled  ;  and 
darkness  settled,  like  a  heavy  shroud,  over  all 
the  world.  Human  voices  spoke  in  unknown 
tongues  ;  the  familiar  faces  of  his  friends  looked 
strangely  on  him.  He  seemed  not  to  belong  to 
the  race  of  men  and  women  ;  for  he  had  lost 
the  idea  of  oneness  with  them :  the  principle  of 


THE    MECHANIC.  199 

affinity  was  gone.  He  strove  to  recall  the 
favorite  and  familiar  texts  of  scripture  ;  but 
Memory  \vas  palsied,  and  sat  quaking  on  her 
throne.  He  attempted  to  call  hack  the  holiest 
amulet  of  his  faith,  the  memory  of  his  mother's 
teachings,  her  prayers,  her  parting  words  ;  but 
a  nightmare  sat  upon  his  afl'ections  ;  and  the 
heart  lay  beneath  hi;  luxom,  cold  and  lifeless 
as  a  stone.  He  felt  that  he  had  no  part,  either 
in  physical  or  mental  being.  Every  external 
object  lost  its  meaning,  and  its  lesson.  INothing 
spake  to  him.  He  heard  voices,  indeed  :  he 
beheld  objects  ;  but  they  had  no  intelligence 
for  him.  No  spirit  communed  with  his  spirit. 
The  bond  of  brotherhood  was  broken  —  the 
cord  of  sympathy  \\a-  rudely  torn  asunder. 
He  was  an  alien  —  a  loose,  floating  atom  —  a 
part  of  nothing  —  bound  to  nothing  —  nothing 
in  the  \\ide  world.  At  times  he  crie.d  out  for 
actual  pain.  He  groaned  in  spirit  for  real  suf- 
ferinti  !  He  felt  that  he  might  hear  to  have  his 
limbs  hacked  oli'by  inches  —  that  he  miidit  see 
his  mother  die.  without  a  pang  —  that  he  might 
see  the  earth  open  to  swallow  up  all  his  kind- 
red, without  emotion.  Indeed,  he  would  have 
welcomed  any  mode  of  phy-ical  torture — any 
thing  that  could  break  that  hideous  apathy. 
His  kind  fi lends  marked  the  change,  and  strove 


200  THE    MECHANIC. 

to  cheer  him.  They  administered  to  his  sup- 
posed malady  ;  but  he  changed  not ;  neverthe- 
less a  change  was  working  within  him.  If  this 
period  had  continued  long  he  must  have  died. 
No  human  being  could  sustain  such  agony,  for 
any  great  length  of  time. 

A  change  came  over  him.  He  seemed  to 
wake,  as  from  a  troubled  dream.  The  reaction 
was  strong.  He  was  cold,  collected,  calm  — 
perfect  master  of  his  reason,  of  himself.  One 
by  one  he  took  up  the  Articles  of  his  Faith, 
with  their  corresponding  Doubts  and  Objec- 
tions. He  scanned  them  severely  as  candi- 
dates for  the  seal  of  Truth.  He  tried  their  life, 
their  power,  by  the  evidence  of  the  Bible, 
by  the  principle  of  Life  within  himself.  He 
was  long  in  doing  this  ;  for  he  felt  that  he  was 
deciding  his  future  fate  —  perhaps  for  Eternity. 
He  stripped  off  all  that  was  meretricious,  the 
inconsistency  of  professing  Christians  —  the 
clash  of  speculative  opinions  —  uncharitable- 
ness,  bigotry,  superstition.  He  broke  the  thick 
crust  of  Names  and  Forms,  which  envelope 
Religion  so  closely,  and  weigh  her  down  so 
heavily,  we  know  not  if  she  lives.  He  cast 
out  all  these  things,  as  foreign  ;  and  entered 
into  the  inner  Tabernacle,  the  Holy  of  Holies. 
There  he  beheld  Religion,  herself,  an  existing, 


THE    MECHANIC.  201 

real,  and  all  pervading  influence.  There  he 
beheld  the  great  idea  of  JESUS,  visibly  written 

THE   O\r.Ni:ss   OF   GOD THE  ONENESS    OF 

MAN,  He  listened  with  the  ear  of  the  under- 
standing, to  the  words  of  Him  "  who  spake  as 
never  man  spake.  "  1  Ii>  doubts  were  satisfied. 
He  believed  -.  and  his  belief  wa-  positive.  But 
not  yet  were  his  affections  recalled  to  life.  INot 
yet  was  the  benevolent  Deity,  the  tender  Father, 
quite  evident. 

Victor,  being  on  a  visit  to  the  city,  had 
wandered  away  one  Sabbath  afternoon,  (as  had 
of  late  been  his  frequent  habit,)  to  muse  alone. 
He  stood  by  a  retired  and  beautiful  inlet  of  the 
bay.  The  roar  of  the  far-off  ocean  came  soft- 
ened in  the  distance  ;  and  as  the  fresh  wind 
curled  the  spirited  waves,  they  rose  among  the 
rocks,  and  dashed  upon  his  feet,  like  messengers 
from  Eternity  ;  so  vast,  so  unsearchable,  was 
the  bosom  from  whence  they  came.  The 
prt.-rel  uttered  a  hoar-e  scream,  a-.  plunging 
beneath  the  waters,  she  sei/ed  her  gliding  prey  ; 
and  afar  off  the  gull,  resting  on  pinions  that 
seemed  wrought  from  the.  feathery  -now.  hung 
silentlv  above  the  excited  Deep.  The  mind  of 
Victor  was  filled  with  the  purest,  the  loftiest 
emotions.  He  lost  all  cogni/ance  of  Time  and 


202  THE    MECHANIC. 

place  ;  but  with  the  images  of  his  actual  posi- 
tion, he  was  carried  back  to  the  sea  of  Gallilee. 
He  stood  on  the  shore,  and  beheld  the  tremen- 
dous war  of  elements.  The  lashed  and  foaming 
waves  were  dashing  mountain  high.  By  the 
fitful  gleams  of  lightning  he  beheld  a  ship, 
borne  like  a  feather  upon  the  wings  of  the 
storm  —  now,  riding  into  the  very  clouds  ; 
now,  plunging  into  the  fearful  depths  below  ; 
while  the  screeching  prey-bird,  and  the  vora- 
cious shark,  seemed  to  anticipate  the  horrid 
event.  Bitter,  indeed,  were  the  piercing 
shrieks,  wrung  from  human  hearts  in  their 
extremest  agony!  But,  lo,  a  man,  clothed  in 
the  majesty  of  God,  went  forth  toward  the 
ship,  walking  firmly  upon  the  waves.  Those 
who  beheld  him  fled  in  fear.  He  spake  ;  and 
the  Deep  knew  his  voice.  The  storm  heard 
him.  and  was  mute.  "Peace.  Be  still.  It  is 
I.  Be  not  afraid."  Ocean,  like  a  tired  war- 
horse,  obedient  to  the  call  of  his  master,  lay 
down  quietly.  The  rebuked  prey-birds  with- 
drew on  noiseless  wing  :  and  the  disappointed 
monsters  below,  in  mute  astonishment,  glided 
away  through  the  unsunned  alleys  of  the  Deep, 
Stillness,  profound  as  that  which  brooded  over 
the  first  midnight  settled  upon  the  scene  ;  for 


THK      MKi'HAMC. 

conscious   Mature   i'elt  the  jirc-.-ncc  of  a  God  ; 
and  she  li>iened  without  breathing,  lest,  perad- 
irc,  lie  should  speak  again. 

Then  broke  foith  light  upon  the  soul  of  Vic- 
tor. The  Deity  became  once  more  evident  in 
all  lie  sa\v.  The  relation  between  himself  and 
the  external  world,  was  renewed.  He  felt 
himself  an  integral  part  of  intelligent  being  ; 
and  he  turned  a\\  ay  from  that  lonely  shore, 
where  he  had  lost  himself,  for  hours,  in  sublime 
muring,  a  free  man.  The  presence  of  his 
Heavenly  Father,  the  voice  of  his  Divine  Mas- 
ter, went  with  him,  and  eheeied,  and  ble- 
him,  whithersoever  he  went.  All  outward 
things  became  intelligent,  as  they  were  mani- 
festations of  Deity  —  revelations  of  the  Divine 
Power  ;  ami  they  were  continually  speaking  to 
him.  in  their  sweet,  low,  stirring  voices  ;  "  It  is 
I.  Be  not  afraid.  " 

It  happened  that,  on  bis  return,  Victor  went 
through  an  exceedingly  poor  and  mean  part  of 
the  city  ;  and,  in  pa— inur  a  miserable  tavern, 
lie  noticed  something  familiar  in  one  of  the  lin- 
gerers of  the  shabby  portico.  The  house  stood 
on  a  corner  ;  and,  in  turning.  \  ictor  saw  the 
whole  face,  and  instantly  knew  Kankin  ;  whom 
he  had  never  >ei.-n  since  the  evening  of  Robert's 
accident.  The  recognition  was  mutual  ;  and 


204  THE   MECHANIC. 

in  the  duskiness  of  a  clouded  twilight,  Victor  r 
saw  that  a  melancholy  change  had  taken  place 
in  his  old  acquaintance.  His  face,  indeed,  his 
whole  person,  was  fearfully  bloated.  The  eyes 
were  red  and  inflamed  ;  and  an  expression  of 
conscious  guilt  had  succeeded  the  free  and 
graceful  manner,  for  which  he  had  been  for- 
merly remarkable.  He  tried,  at  first,  to  avoid 
an  interview  ;  but,  finding  that  impossible,  he 
came  slowly  down  the  steps,  and  gave  a  palsied 
hand  to  Victor.  The  first  feeling  of  the  latter 
was  one  of  pure  disgust  ;  but  when  he  marked 
the  truly  wretched  aspect  of  Rankin  ;  and  saw 
him  surrounded  by  such  low  wretches,  as  he 
would  once  have  scorned  to  mingle  with,  that 
feeling  gave  place  to  one  of  heart-felt  pity. 

"  Will  you  come  in  ?  "  asked  Rankin.  "  But 
no  ;  you  must  not.  "  His  voice  was  dry  and 
husky  ;  and,  as  he  spoke,  Victor  saw  that 
his  whole  face  quivered  with  strong  emotion. 
"  Come  round  the  corner  here  ;  "  he  .continued. 
"  Here  let  us  stand  under  this  shed,  a  while. 
But  perhaps  —  perhaps  you  would  rather  go  ;  " 
and  he  cast  a  look  of  shame  over  his  own  mise- 
rable garments. 

"  No, "  said  Victor,  interpreting  that  look, 
"  I  want  to  talk  with  you,  and  tell  you  of  Rob- 
ert. " 


THE     MECHANIC.  V.'<)5 

What  of  him  ?  "  asked  Rankin,  quickly. 
•  You   would    not  know   him.     He  is   truly 
one  of  the  noblest  works  of  God.     But  he  is 
not  well.     We  fear  he  is  going  into  a  decline." 

Rankin  started,  as  if  with  horror.  "Do  you 
think  he  ever  fully  recovered  from  the  effects  of 
that  blow  ?  " 

"  I  verily  believe  that  he  never  did. '' 

Rankin  started,  as  if  stung  by  an  adder. 
"  And  is  not  this  murder  ?  "  he  cried,  lifting  his 
clenched  hands,  while  his  eyes  shone,  as  with 
the  fearful  gleam  of  insanity. 

"  He  often  speaks  of  you  ;  "  continued  Vic- 
tor, soothingly.  "  He  wants  to  see  you,  and 
talk  with  you,  to  tell  you  how  happy  he  is;  and 
how  happy  —  " 

"  1  might  be  —  you  were  going  to  say. " 

"  Y 

<;  Impossible.  I  am  lost  —  lost,  beyond  the 
power  of  Heaven,  itself,  to  redeem.  I  have 
nothing  to  do  now  ;  but  to  go  on,  sinking 
deeper  and  deeper."  lie  shuddered  as  he 
spol 

"  Do  not  talk  so.     The  worst  —  " 

"  Again  I  say,  impossible.     This  is  the  wa- 
ges of  my  own   work  ;  and,  verily,  I  have  my 
reward.      Hut    hear   me  ;  wretch    as   I    am,   1 
have   some    pride.      It  is  not  all  sin   that   ha* 
18 


206  THE    MECHANIC. 

brought  me  where  you  see  me.  Misfortune 
has  done  its  part.  I  had,  perhaps  you  know, 
quite  a  handsome  sum  when  I  left  Mr.  Gray. 
This  was  stolen  from  me.  Directly  upon 
the  loss  of  it  I  fell  sick.  In  this  state  I  was 
dragged  to  yon  wretched  hole  ;  where  I  linger- 
ed a  few  weeks  ;  and  then  crawled  out  again, 
to  breathe,  not  live.  I  found  myself  surrounded 
by  a  set  of  loafers  of  the  very  worst  stamp.  I 
hated,  despised  the  whole  crew  ;  but  still,  being 
from  my  desperate  condition,  cast  aloof  from 
from  every  thing  else,  I  associated  with  them. 
A  heavy  discouragement,  a  bitter  shame,  took 
hold  of  me,  and  crushed  every  particle  of  man- 
hood. We  generally  work,  and  earn  a  little 
money,  then  club  together  and  have  a  carouse. 
But  low  and  vile  as  you  now  think  me,  Victor, 
I  am  absolutely  a  better  man  than  I  was  when 
you  knew  raei  I  am  not  now  a  hypocrite.  I 
am  abiding  in  guilt  by  a  kind  of  compulsion  ; 
but  I  would  deceive  no  man.  During  that 
miserable  sickness  I  had  reflections,  bitter  — 
bitter,  indeed  ;  but  wholesome.  Had  a  friend 
come  to  me  then,  I  might  have  been  saved. 
But  now  it  is  too  late.  I  pretend  to  nothing 
I  am  nothing  —  nothing  but  a  lost,  miserable 
drunkard  !  "  He  laid  his  hand  against  his 
forehead,  as  if  to  press  down  the  blood  that 


THE    MECHANIC.  207 

rushed  to  his  throbbing  temples,  as  he  added  : 
'•'  Go,  Victor.  Leave  me  to  my  own  destruc- 
tion." 

"  Do  not  say  so.  If  you  know  and  confess 
your  fault,  you  may  yet  be  saved — you  may 
yet  be  happy  !  "  returned  Victor,  with  the 
strongest  expression  of  pity  and  kindness. 
"  Be  a  man,  George  !  and  say  that  you  WILL 

BE    FREE ! " 

"  Impossible  !  You  had  better  Cleave  me, 
Victor.  You  will  be  disgraced  should  you  be 
seen  in  my  company.  You  have  character  to 
lose.  Consider  that.  " 

"  I  fear  no  disgrace  ;  but  that  of  doing  wrong. 
I  value  no  character  that  would  prevent  me 
from  doing  good.  " 

"The  same  obstinate  integrity.  And  even 
this  I  have  sworn  to  spoil  ;  but  it  was  too 
strong  for  me  !  The  stagnant  pool  might  as 
well  attempt  to  corrupt  a  living  sun-beam  !  " 

"Leave  this  place;"  said  Victor.  Get 
work  of  some  respectable  man  !  " 

Mas  !  I  am  incapable  of  procuring  even  a 
decent  situation.  I  have  no  money  to  go  away  ; 
and  if  I  remain  here,  these  pot-brothers  would 
dog  me  all  over  the  city.  " 

"  You  must  leave  the  city  then.  " 


208  THE    MECHANIC. 

"  I  cannot  leave  myself.  You  see  what  I 
am.  What  honest  man  would  trust  me  ?  " 

"Set  all  men  the  good  example,  by  trusting 
yourself;  and  so  proving  yourself  worthy  of 
trust.  Do  not  swear  to  reform  ;  for  I  think  we 
have  a  strong  propensity  to  break  oaths  ;  but 
resolve  that  you  will  do  so.  " 

"  Victor,  your  kindness  has  opened  the  heart, 
which  I  believed  was  sealed  forever.  Listen  to 
me.  I  must  speak  low,  for  I  am  jealous  that 
the  very  winds  should  hear  me.  There  is  one 
objection  to  leaving  this  place.  One  single  tie 
binds  me  to  life.  In  yon  miserable  dwelling,  a 
resort  of  the  vilest  profligates  and  drunkards, 
there  is  one  who  has  long  been  to  me  an  angel 
of  mercy  and  love.  Sarah  Hopewell  is  the 
niece  of  our  landlord  and  an  orphan.  There 
she  lives  in  that  vile  abode  ;  for  she  has  no 
other  home,  and  no  other  friends,  suffering  all 
the  bitterness  of  dependence  on  selfish  and 
brutal  kindred.  The  wrongs  she  endures  are 
greater  than  you  can  imagine  ;  yet  she  bows 
her  head  beneath  them,  with  such  gentleness 
as  would  disarm  the  malice  of  a  fiend.  There 
she  lives,  menial  as  she  is,  surrounded  by  the 
grossest  libertines  ;  yet  she  seems  enveloped  by 
a  hallowed  atmosphere,  which  nothing  bad  can 


THE    MECHANIC.  209 

penetrate.  All  that  look  upon  her,  know  that 
she  is  pure  as  the  light  of  day.  If  I  have  one 
good  thought,  one  good  feeling,  to  her  I  owe  it. 
She  came  to  my  sick  bed,  and  mini>tered  ;  and, 
stniiiilit\\;iy.  1  became  another  man.  I  was 
created  anew.  Every  latent  germ  of  good, 
touched  by  her  influence,  sprang  up,  and  grew. 
She  loved  mr  ;  for  she  could  not  live  without 
sympathy  ;  and  I  felt  for  her — I  appreciated 
her.  I  began  to  live  in  a  new  atmosphere. 
Associated  with  perfect  purity,  I  was  kept  pure 
But  a  suspicion  of  our  attachment  entered  the 
mind  of  that  old  Jezabel,  her  aunt.  With  the 
malice  of  a  fiend  she  determined  to  ruin  us. 
Sarah  was  too  profitable  a  servant  to  lose.  She 
spread  a  mare  for  me.  1  was  entired  away  by 
some  of  my  old  cronies.  A  drugged  cup  was 
administered.  I  drank.  I  was  carried  home 
dead  drunk.  Never  shall  I  forget  the,  look  of 
that  angelic  uirl.  when  I  first  became  conscious. 
She  was  leaning  over  my  lied,  pale  as  marble. 
Her  larife.  dui'  v  ere  almost  insufferably 

bright  ;  but  they  \\ere  lighted  by  despair.  'O 
George  !  '  she.  cried,  '  is  this  true  ? '  Her  lips 
quivered,  and  In  Tamo  fixed.  She  fainted  away 
and  fell  upon  my  bosom.  There  she  lay,  as 
one  dead.  Desperation  gave  me  strength.  I 
rose  and  bore  her  to  the  window.  I  verily 
18* 


210  THE     MECHANIC. 

thought  she  was  dead.  But  in  a  few  minutes 
she  recovered.  Her  whole  aspect  suddenly 
underwent  a  powerful  change.  She  withdrew 
from  my  still-enclosing  arras  with  the  dignity  of 
an  upright  soul.  (  Let  me  go  ; '  she  said, 
gently,  but  firmly.  '  I  will  endure  any  thing — 
every  thing  —  1  can  but  die  ;  but  I  will  never 
marry  a  drunkard.  Farewell.'  I  entreated 
her  to  forgive  me.  '  I  do  forgive  you  ; '  she 
said  ;  '  but  I  can  do  nothing  more  ; '  and,  for- 
saken by  her,  1  abandoned  myself.  She  is 
miserable.  I  am  a  wretch  ;  yet  would  I  give 
my  body  to  the  torture,  to  make  her  happy  ? 
I  would  freely  die  for  her  ?  " 

'•  You  must  live  for  her ! "  eagerly  interrupted 
Victor. 

"  I  tell  you  it  is  impossible.  Every  day  — 
every  hour,  the  gulf  between  us,  is  widening, 
and  deepening.  She  is  sinking  into  the  grave ; 
and  her  meek,  uncomplaining  despair,  is  my 
bitterest  reproof. "  ' 

"  Let  not  the  guilt  of  murder  be  added  to 
your  offences.  You  may  be  —  excuse  me,  you 
must  be  saved  !  You  must  save  her  !  Leave 
this  place  now.  You  will  never  be  better 
able. " 

"  Where  shall  I  go  ?  " 

"  To  a  respectable  house,  " 


THE    .MECHANIC.  211 

"  I  have  not  money  enough,  to  pay  even  for 
a  night's  lodging?  " 

"  I  will  gladly  supply  you.  " 

"  Do  you  think  1  would  accept  money  from 
one  whom  I  have  injured?  No,  Victor  ;  low 
as  I  am,  I  have  not  come  to  that !  Go  away. 
Leave  me.  Every  kind  word  you  speak  to  me, 
is  a  dagger  !  I  beg  of  you  to  leave  me  !  " 

•'  Do  you  suppose  I  would  leave,  in  the  hour 
of  his  extremest  need,  one  who  has  been  my 
companion  —  my  friend  ?  " 

"  Do  not  say  that.      1  never  was  your  friend  ?" 

••  Hut  you  will  he  —  you  must  be  ;  for  1  am 
determined  to  be  yours  !  Do  you  think  I  could 
lay  my  head,  in  quiet  on  my  pillow,  leaving 
you  as  you  are  ?  No  Kankin  ;  I  will  not  leave 
you,  until  a  remedy  for  this  evil  can  be  de- 
•  I." 

"  You  are  obstinate. " 

"  I  always  was;  butv.e  an-  not   iretting  on 
with  tlii-  bu.-iiie--.      I  have  a  propo-al  to  make. 
A  friend   of   mine    is    going   into   business,   and 
wants   to    entire  a   (ini-hed    \\orkinan.      1   \vill 
get  the  place   for  you,  upon  condition  that  you 
totally  abstain  from   intoxicating  liquors, 
act   no   promise.      I    \\oiild    put  no  fetter  upon 
your  will  ;   for  1  believe  that  will  be  m\ 
aid.     It  will,  1  doubt  not,  be  true  as  it  is  strong. 


212  THE    MECHANIC. 

Go  with  me  to  the  Temperance  house,  Mr. 

the  Landlord  is  my  friend.  Be  my  guest 

for  one  night  ;  and  when  you  have  a  cheerful 
home,  lighted  by  the  smile  of  a  loving  and 
happy  wife,  I  will  joyfully  be  yours.  " 

For  a  moment  Rankin  shook,  as  if  an  ague 
had  penetreted  every  particle  of  his  being  ;  and, 
with  a  groan  that  seemed  wrung  out  by  the 
most  horrible  torture,  he  fell  prostrate  on  the 
ground,  sobbing  and  weeping,  as  if  the  whole 
burden  of  shame,  remorse,  and  guilt,  with  which 
his  bosom  had  been  so  long  laden,  had  melted 
at  once,  and  was  pouring  out  in  tears. 

Victor  raised  and  embraced  him  tenderly. 
"  Trust  me  ;  "  he  whispered  —  "  Trust  your- 
self. Let  us  go.  " 

"  Must  I  tell  you  ?  These  tattered  rags  are 
all  the  clothing  I  possess.  My  last  shirt  was, 
this  very  day,  pawned  for  rum. " 

"  So  much  the  better.  Begin  entirely  anew. 
There  is  still  something  ;  believe  me,  George, 
there  is  something  yet  in  you,  beyond  all  com- 
parison, better  than  money,  or  aught  that  money 
can  purchase  ;  there  is  a  quick  and  living  soul. 
Within  this  soul  there  is  yet  a  love  of  good  —  a 
tendency  to  good.  Shall  there  not  be  —  is 
there  not —  a  determination  also  ?  " 

For  a  few  minutes   Rankin   shook  convul- 


THE    MECHANIC.  213 

sively.  The  simple  was  fearful.  Suddenly 
he  was  calm  ;  and,  after  a  short  period  of  per- 
fect silence,  he  extended  his  hand,  saying, 
"  You  have  conquered.  Do  with  me  as  you 
will.  Only  —  I  have  one  favor  to  ask.  Will 
you  see  Sarah,  and  tell  her  ?  —  tell  her  what 
you  think  best.  " 

"  I  will,  with  pleasure.  But  first  let  me  see 
you  safe.  You  will  allow  me  to  send  you  some 
necessary  articles  of  clothing  ;  and  you  shall 
pay  me,  principal  and  interest  —  compound  in- 
terest if  you  will  —  whenever  —  you  please.  " 

Rankin  only  pressed  his  hand  in  reply  ;  and 
by  this  time  they  had  reached  the  Temperance 
bouse. 

The  next  morning  Victor  visited  his  protegee 
at  an  early  hour.  He  was  in  a  state  of  extreme 
irritation  and  intolerable  anxiety. 

"Did  you  see — "  he  be^an  ;  but  could  go 
no  further. 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  think  your  eulogy  was  fully 
<•<!  :  \\liieh  is  more  than  can  be  said  of 
mo-t  lover-'  repo. 

••What  did  you  tell  her?  What  did  >he 
say?"  a^ked  Kankin,  with  the  most  piercing 
cage  1 1 

"  I  told  her  that  you  had  iv.-olved  to  be  a 
better  man — that  you  still  loved  her  —  that 


214  THE    MECHANIC. 

you  were  determined  to  be  worthy  of  her. 
And  then  she  blushed,  so  sweetly,  so  modestly ; 
and  for  a  moment  was  overcome  with  confusion. 
But  her  true  woman's  nature  was  the  strongest. 
Coming  closer,  she  fixed  her  large,  melancholy 
eyes  upon  me,  with  an  expression  which  I  shall 
never  forget :  '  Do  you  believe  this  ? '  she  asked  ; 
and  her  whole  eager  soul  flashed  in  the  ques- 
tion. '  I  believe  it ; '  I  replied.  '  I  can  almost 
say  I  know  it.  She  had  been  comparatively 
calm,  until  that  moment.  Then  she  clasped 
her  thin  hands  together  ;  and  as  the  tears 
streamed  through  the  closed  lids,  wetting  the 
long,  dark  lashes,  she  ejaculated,  in  a  voice  that 
was  half  choking,  '  Thank  !  thank  God  ! '  I 
think  I  never  saw  a  more  beautiful  creature 
than  she  was,  at  that  moment.  In  addition  to 
exceeding  delicacy  of  form,  features,  and  com- 
plexion, there  was  something  so  pure,  so  spirit- 
like,  in  her  whole  aspect,  that  I  thought  she 
might  go  down  into  the  Pit,  if  such  a  place 
there  be,  without  contamination  ;  and  I  won- 
dered not  that  those  brutal  men  were  awed,  as 
they  evidently  were,  by  her  presence.  But  I 
must  tell  you  the  worst.  I  fear  she  is  ill.  I 
verily  believe  her  life  is  in  your  hands.  You 
cannot  trifle  with  it !  You  will  not  throw  it 
away ! 


THE     MECHANIC.  215 

"Never!  Never.  So  help  me  God  !"  He 
walked  the  room  a  moment,  us  if  some  thought 
still  possessed  his  mind  ;  then,  stopping  again, 
he  said  ;  "  You  say'  truly  that  she  is  ill.  And 
must  I  leave  her  there,  to  be  abused  —  to  suffer 
—  to  die  !  She  cannot  live  there  without  me  ! 
Bad  as  I  was,  I  protected  her.  There  was  not 
a  man  there,  but  knew  I  would  stab  him  to  the 
heart,  if  he  dared  to  lay  hands  on  her  —  nay,  if 
he  so  much  as  looked  on  her,  too  freely  !  Even 
her  uncle,  and  the  old  hag,  her  aunt,  were  afraid 
to  treat  her  ill,  if  I  were  present.  " 

"  Compose  yourself.  She  will  suffer  no  more 
at  their  hands.  I  this  morning  procured  a  car- 
riage, and  called  upon  JUT  with  Ednah,  Mrs. 
Talbot.  She  is  under  her  protection  ;  and 
there  she  will  remain,  until  you  have  proved 
yourself  worthy  ;  and  then — " 

The  face  of  Kankin  flu.shed  crimson,  then 
grew  very  pale.  He  tried  to  speak  ;  but  his 
lips  quivered,  and  he  was  silent.  He  sank  into 
a  seat  ;  and  yieldliiL:  to  iireprdesible  emotion, 
he  sobbed  and  wept  passionately. 

Victor  grasped  his  hand.  "  1  have  engaged 
you  to  my  friend.  You  will  begin  to-morrow. 
God  bless  you."  Kankin  could  not  reply. 
He  only  wrung  his  benefactor's  hand  ;  and 
they  parted  in  silence. 


CONCLUSION. 

We  have  little  more  to  say.  The  end  of  a 
story,  by  us,  Yankees,  at  least,  may  always  be 
guessed.  The  most  interesting  facts  are,  as 
follows.  Victor,  previous  to  his  embarkation, 
of  course,  paid  Bell  a  visit.  Not  to  have  done 
so  would  have  been  a  breach  of  common  polite- 
ness, considering  what  kind,  nay,  what  intimate 
friends  they  had  been  for  the  last  three  months 
—  doing  even  all  sorts  of  ungracious  things, 
from  that  quite  numerous  class  of  persons,  who 
are  more  gifted  in  the  way  of  minding  other 
people's  business,  than  in  attending  to  their 
own.  It  was  a  glorious  October  afternoon. 
Who  would  not  make  love  in  October  ;  clear, 
dreamy,  beautiful,  rain-bow-vested  October? 
There  was.  perhaps,  a  sympathetic  principle  in 
the  very  atmosphere.  Nevertheless,  Victor  had 
formed  a  very  wise  resolution  to  be  grave,  and 
calm,  and  dignified,  in  his  leave-taking.  How 
could  he  be  otherwise,  considering  the  difference 
in  their  positions  ?  Principle,  self-esteem,  for- 
bade. It  was  strange  Bell  should  have  been 


THE    MECHANIC.  217 

quite  alone,  just  then,  in  a  summer-house,  too, 
in  one  of  the  most  witching  spots  that  Nature 
ever  cherished  as  her  own.  These  things  are 
sometimes  arranged  for  us,  certainly  better  than 
we  could  arrange  for  ourselves  !  He  drew  near 
unheard.  The  dear  girl  was  in  tears,  and  the 
molten  poarls  were  dropping  fast  upon  a  long- 
since  dried,  and  altogether  quite  faded  hunch  of 
flowers  !  Do  you  remember  a  fair  purple  clus- 
ter, plucked  by  a  chivalrous  boy,  and  presented 
to  a  merry  maiden  ?  —  Reader,  inasmuch  as  we 
are  sober-minded  persons,  we  will  not  enquire 
aught  farther  ;  nor  even  guess  if  Victor  lingered 
so  long  (even  to  the  verge  of  losing  his  passage) 
to  kiss  away  the  tears  she  wept  at  parting. 

In  two  years  from  the  time  of  his  depar- 
*ture,  Victor  returned,  an  accomplished  Archi- 
tect —  a  finished  man  —  with  an  undisputed 
title  to  the  highest  place  in  society  :  yet 
far  di-:«ivi-  to  him  was  the  gentle  whisper  of 
affection  than  the  loudest  note;  of  praise.  On 
just  such  an  October  day  as  had  whin^i-d  their 
plighted  love,  were  confirmed  the  nuptial  vows. 
Victor  and  Bell  were  united — all,  Aunt  Au- 
gusta, even,  forgetting  his  vulgar  origin.  Or, 
rather  she  denied  this  altogether  ;  for,  on  the 
wedding  day,  she  told  with  u  most  convincing 
smirk,  that  her  new  nephew  was,  undoubtedly, 
19 


218  THE     MECHANIC. 

a  lineal  descendant  of  Edward  Hyde,  Earl 
of  Clarendon,  whose  daughter,  Ann,  married 
James,  Duke  of  York,  afterwards  James  II  ; 
but  one  of  whose  grandsons,  a  son  of  the  unfor- 
tunate Henry,  Earl  of  Clarendon,  fled  to  this 
country,  after  his  father's  death,  where  he  set- 
tled, and  left  a  numerous  family.  A  dignity  so 
far  brought  must  have  been  very  flattering  to 
Victor. 

The  highly-gifted  Robert  returned  not  with 
bis  friend.  He  was  left,  sleeping  his  last  sleep 
beneath  the  glorious  skies  of  Italy  ! 

Rankin,  thoroughly  reformed,  had  become  a 
happy  husband.  He  had  prospered  and  risen 
in  the  world  ;  and  on  the  eve  of  our  hero's 
marriage,  as  he  presented  his  beautiful  and  in- 
telligent wife,  who  was  leading  her  little  Victor 
by  the  hand,  he  said  :  "  These  blessings,  my 
friend,  and  every  thing  of  good,  I  owe  to  you, " 

Now,  a  word  in  parting  :  be  honest,  self- 
relying,  truthful.  Fear  no  man,  envy  no  man  ; 
hate  no  man.  RESPECT  THYSELF;  and  if  any 
one  despises,  or  neglects  thee,  pity  him.  Learn 
that  external  things  are  mere  shows,  contin- 
ually changing,  and  passing  away  ;  and  that  all 
absolute  greatness  is  in  the  human  soul.  "  The 
gateways  of  a  thousand  palaces  "  have  crumbled 
into  dust,  and  are  scattered  by  the  winds  ;  but 


THE      MK<  HANIC.  219 

every  foot-print  of  Mental  Being  is  a  type  and 
image  of  Eternity.  Cherish,  then,  in  thyself. 
this  SOUL.  Educate  and  perfect  it,  as  far  as  in 
thee  lies,  doing  homage  to  no  man,  unlevs  he 
havi-  a  loftier  mind,  a  purer  heart  than  others  ; 
bending  the  servile  knee  to  none  —  trembling 
before  none,  save  God  only. 

Now,  dear  Reader,  whom  I  have  led  by  the 
hand,  pleasantly  enough  to  me  ;  although  it 
may  have  been  to  thee  somewhat  a  wearisome 
road  :  here,  our  ways  separate  ;  yet,  if  it  so 
please  thee,  we  may  meet  again.  -My  object 
was  not  merely  to  te'.l  a  story  —  least  of  all  a 
love-story,  but  TO  TKLL  THE  TRUTH  ;  and 
having  uttered  my  TIIMU<;HT,  though  it  be  im- 
perfectly, I  have  nothing  more  to  say.  Fare- 
well. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  UBRARY  FAQUTY 


A     000124067     o 


